


now & forevermore

by fruti2flutie



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Inspired by To All The Boys I've Loved Before, Light Angst, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2020-02-04 18:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18609934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruti2flutie/pseuds/fruti2flutie
Summary: Kevin never aspired to be a writer, but he’s always written. From song lyrics to screenplays, he loves putting his pen onto paper and expressing his mind with layers of ink. He likes to write, but oh, boy, does he regret the love letters.





	1. mail

**Author's Note:**

> -so uhhhhhhh this idea has been stewing for a Very Long Time..... i love tatbilb, but i haven't read the original books sooooo this is an inspiration based on the movie alone!!! lots of changes & tweaks!!!! pretty self-indulgent (what else is new) & technically.. unfinished...,,.,.. i wanted to wait until i finished writing it in full before i started posting, but i don't have the inspiration to write at all so? idk we'll see what happens  
> -title from [troye sivan's "youth"](https://youtu.be/XYAghEq5Lfw)  
> -oh, i probably won't be responding to comments until The Very Last Chapter, so if u have any questions abt the AU itself pls send them to [my tumblr](https://incorrecttheboyz.tumblr.com/ask)!!! i tag stuff under "tatbilb au" lol  
> - **warnings:** swearing, currently unfinished, approximately 30k endgame, SLOW BURN, one (1) chapter of underage drinking, literally the most American fic EVER, too much exposition for ch1, not closely edited, and uhhhhhhhhhh yeah. yeah, that's basically it. go nuts.

Kevin can’t park for shit, but he can sure as hell try his best. He drives a beat-up Toyota Corolla, handed down to him from his older sister after she moved to Los Angeles for her job. There is no backup camera, no feature that beeps like a fire alarm when you get too close to the curb. All Kevin has is a driver’s license and severe driving anxiety, which means he can competently get to and from school but screams as he tries parking.

“Hey, dumbass, how long does it take to pull into a parking spot?”

Kevin makes a face he knows Chanhee can’t see. His bleach-blond friend is standing next to the empty parking spot he’s close to but not quite parked in, sipping idly at a Dunkin’ iced coffee. With black Ray-Bans and red Converse, a worn-out Nike hoodie and brandless joggers, Chanhee is the epitome of senioritis, which is a mild contrast to Kevin, wearing jeans and Mickey Mouse hoodie.

Rolling down the window, Kevin asks frustratedly, “Do you ever think about helping me? Like, you could direct me. Guide me. _Help_ me.”

Chanhee pats the top of Kevin’s car, sipping his coffee. “No, I think you got this.” Kevin groans. “There isn’t even anyone next to you! Park between the lines. You’re fine.”

After a minute more of an unnecessary amount of reversing, Kevin gets into the parking spot just shy of the yellow line. He debates re-parking, but Chanhee is impatiently kicking Kevin’s back wheel, lips pursed around his straw. He’s likely fussing because his unassigned-assigned seat in AP Literature might get taken by Becky with the Short Hair. Sighing, Kevin grabs his backpack from the front seat and walks with Chanhee to the front entrance.

“See? Was that so hard?” Chanhee croons.

“I hope you choke.”

“Don’t reveal your kinks in a public place.” Chanhee laughs at Kevin’s disgusted scowl. When they get to Chanhee’s locker, he puts his sunglasses on the top shelf and asks, “Have you talked to Jacob lately? I miss him.”

“We Skyped yesterday, but he said we won’t be able to do it often.” Kevin sighs, scratching at a mark on the wall. “His course load is heavy, he said. He’ll be lucky to come home for Thanksgiving.”

Chanhee gasps. “It’s only been a week!”

“Yeah, and he still gets lost to class.”

“Typical,” Chanhee snorts.

Jacob has been Kevin’s best friend since elementary school, having bonded over the Sunday lunches after mass and jam sessions in Jacob’s garage. A year older and in the grade above him, Jacob had graduated high school first. He wants to be a pharmacist, so he’s attending a small but reputable university out of state. He’d taken AP classes during high school, but only one of them was accepted as college credit, which basically means he’s got a full schedule every semester until he can apply for pharmacy school. It’s worse, too, because he also has to work part-time jobs (two!) for pocket change.

This isn’t the first time Kevin has gone without Jacob, whose family takes two vacations per year, but this is the first time they’re not in school together. He feels like he’s missing a part of himself physically (i.e. the convenience of shared lockers) and spiritually (i.e. the happy face emojis before the start of fourth period). It sucks, but he’s getting used to the suckiness.

“God, I don’t really wanna think about college or anything else that has to do with the future,” Kevin groans.

After kissing the cross tattooed on his pinky, Chanhee raises his iced coffee to the sky and says, “Amen.”

They walk to Kevin’s locker in the adjacent hallway. There are students sitting in the crevices, waiting for the warning bell to ring. There are a few minutes left until class, so most of them are near classrooms, loitering. Kevin has to ask a couple of freshmen to scoot over so he can reach his locker.

He puts away his textbooks and argues with Chanhee over Chipotle’s queso or guacamole, although agreeing both should come free regardless. As Kevin is about to close his locker, a hand grabs onto the side of it and stops him.

It’s Juyeon, from Kevin’s AP physics class, dark hair messy against his forehead. Clad in picnic blanket plaid, a black t-shirt underneath, with excessively ripped jeans and an unnecessary amount of wristwear, Kevin does his best not to judge him based on appearance. Once he looks down and sees the white socks paired with Adidas sandals, it’s considerably harder to hold back a scoff.

“Yo, what’s up?” Juyeon says, and Kevin waves. “Do you have the physics notes from yesterday? I had to leave early for basketball so I couldn’t review.”

Kevin knows that Mr. Watson’s quiz is going to be hell, so he sympathizes with his classmate. “Yeah, I got you. One sec.” He pulls out the purple notebook from his locker and hands it to Juyeon. “Oh, and sorry for the doodles.”

Juyeon flips through the notes and shakes his head. “No, this is great. You’re a lifesaver! I’ll give these back during lunch.” He claps Kevin on the shoulder, almost making him topple over. “Thanks, Moon.”

Once Juyeon is out of sight, Chanhee purposefully slams Kevin’s locker shut and asks, “What was that?”

Kevin, refusing to be riled, heads in the direction of the classroom. “I gave a classmate notes. Is that against the law?”

Chanhee hums. “Juyeon Lee, recently appointed captain of the basketball team. Notorious for his killer looks, wicked brains, and giant hands. That’s a man, if I’ve ever seen one.” He bumps harshly into Kevin’s side. “ _And_ he’s a huge deal around the dating scene. I’m pretty sure he’s never settled down with a girl for more than a week, y’know.”

“Relevance, Chanhee?” Kevin says, holding back a sigh.

“Mr. Moon, when was the last time you had a partner?”

“Marian was my partner for chemistry lab last year,” Kevin answers smoothly, which makes Chanhee slap his arm in annoyance. “Okay, geez! I know what you meant!” He pouts. “I just... don’t want that. A relationship, right now.”

“That’s real hard to believe,” Chanhee snorts. Kevin frowns. “You’re such a _romantic_. You sing love songs in the shower, write romcoms for creative writing, know the entire script of _27 Dresses_ by heart... You’re literally the perfect person to date.”

Kevin is touched. “Aw, Chanhee.”

“Don’t let that get to your head. I can’t have your ego become any bigger than mine.”

Laughing, Kevin just shrugs. “I’m just a regular guy, appreciating the simple things in life. I’ll stay humble, okay? I don’t need much. I’m just waiting for the right moment to fall in love.”

Chanhee drags a hand down his face. “That is _seriously_ the most romantic shit, which exactly proves my point. I hate it.”

When they get to the classroom, Chanhee hurls his backpack a good five feet in the air so it lands on the chair of his unofficial desk. Becky, who’d been a second from setting her purse down, gapes at the now taken seat and screams, “What the hell, Chanhee!? You suck!” Kevin tries to avoid the cat-and-mouse chase Becky starts with Chanhee, side-stepping out of the way and putting his backpack on an empty desk.

This is what Kevin’s senior year looks like, and he’s comfortable with it. AP classes, friends who are petty, and a contentedly single relationship status. Yeah, it’s all good.

——

 _Dear._  

The word holds so much power in just four letters. An adjective, noun, adverb, exclamation. Two vowels sandwiched between consonants. All it is, is a word. 

When Kevin falls into a heart-wrenching, all thought-consuming crush that has the potential to ruin the normalcy of his life, he writes a letter. This letter contains all those feelings — nervousness, excitement, pain — that Kevin wants to throw away. He doesn’t need irrational emotions holding him back. Once he writes it all down, a single page of emotions that he never expects to breathe into reality, he’s no longer burdened with those feelings. The letter takes them all, and it begins with “dear.” 

He’s written five, addressed and sealed, each specific to a person in and of Kevin’s time. 

The first letter: a blue envelope, crinkled at the corners, crude and mostly out of spite. 

It was during seventh grade, before Kevin learned how to wear contacts and style his hair, all awkward limbs and questionable fashion sense. 

Near the end of the year, all the honors kids were invited to Patricia West’s birthday party. She had it at her house in the evening; with her relatives upstairs, the friends took towards the basement. Low lighting, the Top 100 Pop Songs as background noise, the atmosphere called for mischief and new experiences, and Kevin sat beside Juyeon Lee, who was just starting to catch everyone’s attention. 

Before AP physics, before AP chemistry, before either of them became butterflies from the chrysalis that is puberty, there was the small circle of teens playing spin the bottle. Patricia initiated the game because of her crush on Damien, who was eager to participate, and recruited whoever remained. There were ten or so of them, an even mix of girls and guys. Each spin until Kevin conveniently landed on a classmate of the opposite gender. It was cheeky and teasing, the over-the-top reactions to them all, but the moment the neck of the bottle pointed to Juyeon, the circle fell silent. 

Obviously, Kevin planned to laugh it off and twist the bottle so he’d have to kiss Andrea instead, but Juyeon leaned over and settled the problem for him. No, he didn’t kiss Andrea but instead _Kevin_ , plopped one right on his mouth and then spun the bottle for the next turn. And he’d acted like nothing happened, and their peers acted like nothing happened, and all of a sudden Kevin was hyper aware of his own heart rate. And he was _angry_ about it _._

Juyeon stole Kevin’s first kiss and very soon the first bite of his heart, so Kevin made him the recipient of a love letter that would never reach the postman. He could never say the words out loud, not when the entire middle school had its eyes on rising star Juyeon Lee, so the paper was his canvas. 

The first letter included gems like _I hate your robot laugh_ and _your long arms block the projector, jerk._ The world was easier to live in without feelings like this, so using the Letter Method to rid him of them was a success. 

The second letter: a pristine white envelope, straight from the box.

As a freshman, Kevin thought he was inherently better than middle schoolers. The second letter attested to this. It was a natural phenomenon: high school trumps middle school, and that is the law of the land. 

He volunteered to help at a middle school dance — the winter formal, held in December. The hours were applicable to his English class for extra credit, so he wasn’t exactly thrilled to attend. (Listening to whatever PG tracks the student DJ was allowed to play for three hours without being able to look at his phone was very, very close to torture.) He made sure no kids were sneaking cigarettes in the bathroom, no tomfoolery in the janitor’s closet. For most of the night, he stood near the punch bowl at the end of the auditorium and observed. 

And someone caught his eye. Wearing a white dress shirt and black slacks. Smiling wide with a single dimple. Dancing by himself, as if no one was watching him. No one had ever made Kevin awestruck before, struck speechless. This skinny eighth grader did it in one pop-and-lock move.

Kevin went up to him to talk; he didn’t have it in him to compliment the dancer, but he could hold a conversation. They sat in the empty hallway, outside the auditorium, where they could hear one another’s voices properly. Changmin — that was his name — wasn’t much younger, but he actually seemed more mature than Kevin. He was the youngest of two sisters, so he grew up with their wisdom fueling him. He had a dream of becoming a dancer, potentially Broadway, and was aware of the hardships he would have to face to get there. Kevin worried for him, but Changmin vowed that a dream wasn’t worth it unless you had to fight for its existence.

When the dance was over, Changmin held Kevin’s hand before walking out to the car, his eldest sister behind the wheel. Changmin had stopped dancing long ago, but Kevin was still amazed at his every movement. It was silly, these reactions of his, so he wrote the kid a letter first thing in the morning and tried to forget the pearly white smile of the night prior. 

It worked like a charm. 

The third letter: textured envelope plucked from the stand at a gas station.

Marching band was split into three main parts: camp, competition, and football. For two intensive weeks before school starts, a hundred or so band kids sweat under the sun and learn how to march a yard. Competition is for the marching trophies, and football is for the pep. 

(Kevin met Lauren in camp, gave her his heart during competition, and wrote her a letter at the end of football season. He knew, knew very well, that his love was meant for heartbreak.)

If a student is in marching band then they don’t have to take gym class for the year, so _obviously_ Kevin was going to put up with carrying his saxophone for a few months rather than daily humiliation over his record for the mile. He was in marching band in freshman year and planned on doing it until he was a junior, and then he would be home free with all his happy gym credits. 

During the summer before sophomore year he met Lauren, a transfer student and a new color guard, after her flag knocked him unconscious for about twenty seconds. The situation was incredibly concerning for everyone, but Kevin handled it like a champ. He opened his eyes as Lauren cried over him, apologizing profusely, but he assured her, _It’s all good, girl. I’m still breathing._ She laughed, introduced herself, and walked Kevin to the car so his mom could drive him to the hospital. 

They hung out a lot, after that, during marching band practice. Any time the drum major called for break, Kevin would head over to the color guard area and sit with her. Lauren drank from a S’well water bottle and liked to talk about Food Network shows. She had two cats and loved exercising. Her sense of humor matched Kevin’s, puns and observational. She always had her hair in pigtails, and she always smiled with her teeth. When it was time to compete, Kevin would sit with her on the bleachers and share concession food. As they watched other bands perform, she would rest her head on his shoulder and they would have their moment. 

It was during the bus ride home from the last competition that Lauren kissed him, and it was the moment after that Kevin learned it was all a mistake. _I have a boyfriend_ , she whispered, and then she moved to a different seat, put on her own headphones, didn’t look back. Kevin stayed where he was. He stayed, found an old envelope in his saxophone case, and wrote on the back of the sheet music for Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance.”  

Marching band season came and went, and Kevin never spoke to Lauren again. Not even the next summer. And he was fine with that, because he wrote a letter and didn’t send it. 

The fourth letter: a vibrant orange envelope, with a yellow flap.

Based on jealousy and loneliness, Kevin’s fourth letter is the one he regrets the most. It was during a time where he was afraid his best friend would outgrow him, when Kevin was a sophomore and Jacob a junior. He realized that, no matter how hard he tried, he was going to lose Jacob to someone else and, by that logic, Jacob was going to lose him some day, too.

Sangyeon came into Kevin’s life as Jacob’s lab partner for AP chemistry. Neither of the juniors knew what they were doing, so they hashed out lab reports in the comfort of Jacob’s home, where Kevin often visited as well. He enjoyed being a part of their conversations, whether it was school-related or something entirely off-topic. Sangyeon made sure his voice was heard, and Kevin practically swooned at his good manners. 

It came as a surprise when Jacob admitted to having a crush on Sangyeon. The moment occurred as the two best friends sat on the patio, Jacob’s guitar between them. The declaration was timid, anxious, because Jacob’s heart is a fragile object and his self-confidence was lacking. Kevin knew that Jacob would have no intention of acting on his feelings, no will to _try_ had he known about Kevin’s. 

As a good best friend, Kevin hastily put together a letter and then wished Jacob luck. 

Sangyeon and Jacob were the perfect couple. Both were caregivers by nature, so they found joy in helping others and each other, often volunteering or studying together. The two kept to themselves mostly, letting friends discover their relationship naturally. Kevin found out after he third-wheeled a movie with them, sitting beside Jacob in the theater and witnessing the classic holding-hands-in-the-popcorn-tub moment. He felt more proud than jealous, truthfully, seeing his best friend find someone to share his heart with. Jacob deserved Sangyeon, who looked at him like he saved a galaxy in another life, adored him like a soulmate. They deserved one another, and Kevin was one of many who thought they were meant to be. 

It was a shock to everyone when the relationship ended. To Kevin it was even more of a shock when he discovered it was Jacob who broke it off, mid-summer of this year. Afterwards Jacob didn’t talk much about it, visiting his best friend’s house with red-rimmed eyes and a sad smile. He spent the night sleeping at the foot of Kevin’s bed, and they baked brownies and cupcakes in the morning. And then Jacob went on a vacation with his family to the west coast, returned for a day, and then moved to his dorm. 

Sangyeon commutes to his college and works as a teacher’s aide at the middle school next door, but Kevin hasn’t spoken to him. He’s not sure if he wants to, and as for Jacob... Kevin hasn’t brought up the incident again, because Jacob will, when he’s ready. 

The fifth letter: a pink envelope that felt soft on Kevin’s fingers. 

Ironically, Daisy smelled like peaches. Kevin thought it was her perfume, but it was actually her hand lotion. She was introduced to him as the daughter of a family friend, taking a gap year before college as Kevin was a junior in high school. She wasn’t meant to stay for long, and in the meantime she wanted to learn how to play the piano. 

The first song Kevin taught her was _Twinkle Twinkle Little Star_ , with chords. Daisy learned the basics before all else, struggling with scales and terminology. She never gave up, though, and kept a small notebook to keep notes, both technical and musical. He sat beside her on the piano bench, ghosted his fingers over hers, guided her to sharps and flats. With her eyes on the keys, she asked question after question and left Kevin’s heart beating twice as fast as the metronome. 

There was something about her — the way her hair curled, the thesaurus of words she held, the patience she had with Kevin, who was just a boy in her eyes. He anticipated her arrival at his house, smiling brightly, prepared to learn. She laughed whenever he stammered but never teased, saw his mistakes but never highlighted them. Daisy was someone who accepted him, made him feel good, and it was what he needed. She was the flower in his herbal tea, the healing he needed when he was hurt. 

Because she cared too much for his feelings, Daisy rejected him the day before she left. He didn’t pour his heart out, per se, but he was poetic enough to make her blush. Kevin thought they could work, long-distance with an insignificant age gap, but he was wrong. She never saw him as a love interest. She never looked at him the way he looked at her, and from the motherly pat on his cheek Kevin knew she never would. He wrote the letter as he sat on the piano bench, hours after she’d left, using every word AP Language & Composition forced into his hippocampus so that Daisy could stop affecting his amygdala. 

It took him three tries, but it worked.

So, Kevin has been in love. And he’s also hated every moment of it. The letters were the only way he was able to put those emotions away, forget. 

However, Kevin hasn’t forgotten about the letters themselves; they’re his biggest secret. He’s mentally stored them in the back of his mind and physically stuffed them in a shoebox on the top shelf of his closet. They’ve never seen the light of day, and he plans to keep it like that until he’s cozy in his grave. 

Or, far in the future, when he’ll burn them in a fire.

——

The next day starts off like any other. Kevin wakes up, knocks over half the items off his nightstand as he grabs his glasses, and gets ready for school. He pours himself a bowl of Cheerios and then SmartCasts a TED Talk onto the TV in the living room. With the bowl in his lap, he has a spoon in one hand and his phone in the other.

He taps and scrolls through his social media, idly feeding himself all the while. He tags Jacob in a few random Facebook posts; although, the elder never checks social media unless he reaches _99+_ notifications. Chanhee texts him, too. As Kevin is about to leave the house, he sees the message and scoffs.

 **🐍chanhee🐍 (06:36)** **  
**im sick couhg cough  
dont hit any fire hydrants while im away  
wait no snap me when u do

Kevin decides to let his 383 day Snapchat streak with Chanhee stay on a timer for a few hours.

After getting all his things ready, Kevin gets into the car and drives. He’s running a little later than normal, so he forgoes his Wednesday coffee from Starbucks. When he gets to school, it takes him an extra minute longer to park the car, too, because his emotional support (read: Chanhee, unfortunately) is missing. He’s only mildly embarrassed when some freshman passes by to purposefully insult his awful parking. He rushes into the school, cheeks pink, and hopes his car doesn’t get towed.

Juyeon is waiting by Kevin’s locker, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. Upon seeing Kevin, he puts up a hand and greets loosely, “Hey, Moon.”

“Oh, hey. What’s up? Is it physics stuff again?” Kevin asks, turning the code for his lock, but Juyeon quickly shakes his head.

“No, I—” Juyeon opens his mouth, closes it, and then looks down at his shoes. “Not physics. It’s, uh... Well. Um. I think I should just show you.” He reaches inside his backpack and pulls out a paper. “I wanted to talk to you. About this.”

Kevin frowns, confused. Once he realizes what Juyeon’s holding, a blue envelope with crinkled edges, his stomach plummets to the floor. He almost breaks the skin of his palms with how hard his nails dig into them, eyes darting at all the details he doesn’t want to take in.

The stamp at the corner. The sender’s address.

The fact that _Juyeon_ is in possession of _Kevin’s_ love letter.

“Oh, my God.” It sounds like Kevin’s going to have an asthma attack. He doesn’t have asthma, but this is probably what it feels like, right? “That... Juyeon, where did you get that?”

“My home mailbox,” Juyeon answers. “Look, Kevin—”

“That letter— It was a long time ago. I don’t know how— None of it is true, now, I swear. I don’t have those feelings for you anymore.” Kevin’s words come out in a rush, surprisingly coherent for how much he’s freaking out. Or not. He can’t tell. “Oh, my God. Oh, Jesus Christ. Oh, Lord have mercy.”

“Hey, man, are you—”

Whatever Juyeon’s about to say cuts out like white noise as Kevin sees the one and only Sangyeon Lee, walking down the hall, orange envelope in hand. This Sangyeon Lee who quite recently broke up with Jacob Bae, a.k.a. Kevin’s best friend, a.k.a the ex-boyfriend who _most definitely_ still has feelings for him.

He’s walking with purpose, _purposefully._ If Sangyeon saw the letter Kevin never meant to send, if Sangyeon wants to make something or anything out of nothing—

Kevin doesn’t think twice before grabbing the front of Juyeon’s shirt and pulling him in for a kiss, which is definitely a _think about this more than twice_ action. His eyes are squeezed shut as he tries not to focus on how quickly his world is crumbling, what Sangyeon is about to do, how soft Juyeon’s lips are. Juyeon muffles a yelp but he soon kisses Kevin back, a subtle push forward that makes Kevin’s eyes fly open as he jumps a foot away.

Juyeon has his hands awkwardly hovering near his head, blinking. With Sangyeon still heading in their direction, with even _more_ purpose, Kevin does not have the time to explain or unpack his poorly executed decisions.

“Okay, Juyeon, I apologize for that, but I have to go fake my death now. See you tomorrow.”

“School hasn’t even started,” Juyeon says, bewildered, except Kevin’s already tripped and stumbled out of sight.

——

Running two stop signs and narrowly missing the neighbor’s flowerbed, Kevin somehow makes it home in one piece. His mom is in the middle of her shift at the hospital, so he doesn’t have to worry about hitting her car or getting caught skipping school. (Both are possible motives for Kevin’s murder, so he keeps them in mind.) He throws open the front door, barely manages to take off his Vans, and flies up the stairs to his bedroom.

Inside his closet, on the top shelf, looms a sacred shoebox that Kevin hurries to grab. When he opens it, his worst fear is confirmed.

As he stares into the emptiness Kevin says, terribly numb, “Fuck my fucking life.”


	2. deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -here's a pre-final update!!! (i'm hoping to finish the fic after finals but We Shall See) & thanks for all the comments!!!!! hope this fic doesn't disappoint lol

Chanhee appears in the doorway as Kevin lies lifeless on his bed, having been mentally planning his escape from the country for the better half of the hour.

First, he needs to renew his passport. Then, invest in a Rosetta Stone. Not right at this second, though. Now is the time to reflect on his sins and hope God forgives him for being a dumbass.

“Aren’t you sick?” Kevin asks gruffly.

Chanhee sniffles and says, deadpan, “Ah-choo.” He sits next to Kevin and crosses one leg over the other. “Heard you sucked face with the Lebron James wannabe, so I wanted to confirm.” He pouts his lip. “That’s the right sport, yeah? Basketball? I think.”

“The demonic force hates heteronormativity,” Kevin grunts, still in a daze.

“You’re bi, Kevin, last time I asked. And I have no idea what you’re saying.” Chanhee pats him on the back. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Kevin bolts upright, snatches the shoebox off the ground, and presents it to Chanhee as if the object itself gained sentience and danced on the ashes of his beloved great-grandmother (God bless her soul). “This— _this_ garbage!”

Chanhee levels him with a calm stare. “Have you finally seen the error of your ways? Are you making the move from Van City to Converse Town?” Kevin grabs the nearest pillow and cries into it. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“My life is over,” Kevin moans. _“My Life is Over_ , the title of my autobiography, which I shall now begin writing. Because I am about to die. Right now.”

“Do you actually wanna talk it out, or are you cool with wallowing in your own cesspool of sadness?”

Kevin thinks about it. He stews for a solid two minutes and twenty-four seconds before bolting upright once more, finger pointed directly at Chanhee’s surprised face.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone,” Kevin says. Chanhee twists his lips and reaches for his phone. “Wha— Jesus Christ, Chanhee, I am _right here._ ”

“I have to turn it off to lower the temptation!” Chanhee defends. He tosses his phone aside and then holds his hands in the air. “See? Clean hands. This problem of yours seems legit, so I am also gonna be legit. I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

“Okay. Okay. Here goes.”

Kevin tries not to go into too much detail, but he’s always been one for theatrics and can’t help it. He starts talking about the letters, each of them, and rambles on about what the recipients made him feel. Three boys, two girls, and every crack on Kevin’s heart attributed to his experiences with them.

In a very Ariana Grande fashion: one taught him love, one taught him pain, one taught him patience, etc. He’d written the letters to have an outlet for his emotions; love letters with recipients but no intention of being received. And yet, somehow, Juyeon Lee is currently in possession of a blue envelope, the shoe box is empty, and Kevin wants to die.

By the end of the convoluted backstory Chanhee is pacing around the room, hands on his hips. He stops in place, turns, and seethes, “Kevin Moon, you sly son of a bitch.”

“Wow. Come at me, why don’t you?”

Chanhee grabs the nearest object — a Hello Kitty doll the size of his fist — and hurls it at Kevin. “ _Five_ letters? You sent out _five_ letters?” he scoffs. “And you have the _nerve_ to call _me_ a snake.”

“I didn’t— The demonic force sent them!” Kevin shrieks. Chanhee gets caught in a coughing fit as he aims a Donald Duck Tsum Tsum at Kevin’s head. “I’m just saying! I wasn’t the one to send them!”

“You’re unbelievable!”

“Two of them got returned,” Kevin goes on, desperate. “The ones I sent to the girls.” After finding the shoe box empty, he’d checked the mailbox and saw the envelopes with the _return to sender_ stamps on them. Last he heard, Lauren moved to a different house; Daisy lives in Switzerland.

Chanhee blinks. “Is that so?” He brightens at this new piece of information, hurriedly shaking Kevin by the shoulders. “This is your Gay Crisis! It’s a milestone! Amazing! I love it!”

“I’m still bi,” Kevin groans. “No milestone, Chanhee. This was never supposed to happen.”

Sighing, Chanhee carefully pats Kevin’s hair. “Then why write them in the first place?”

There isn’t an answer that Kevin can come up with that’ll satisfy both himself and Chanhee. He doesn’t know if there is one, right now or at all.

“It’s complicated. I don’t know. I... need time. I need to get my head straight, no pun intended.”

Chanhee hums. “Take the night to think it over. See what happens in the morning. Do the whole _WWJD_.”

“ _What Would Jesus Do?_ ”

“Oh, is that what that stands for?”

Kevin frowns. “What did you think it stood for?”

“ _What Would Jacob Do?_ ” Chanhee coughs into his fist and grimaces. “In my defense, Jacob and Jesus are basically interchangeable.”

“Chanhee, please.”

“Whatever. I’m going home. I’m not supposed to operate heavy machinery after taking my meds and I drove the Audi here, so.” Chanhee shrugs. “ _C’est la vie._ ”

“You’re a danger to society,” Kevin says.

“Thanks. You too.”

After Chanhee leaves Kevin does everything but think. He sweeps the floors, reorganizes his album shelf, wipes the windows. He shoves the shoe box back in the closet and shuts the door.

Normally he stress-bakes, not stress-cleans. However, the kitchen is out of vanilla extract and flour, so he forgoes the cotton apron for latex gloves. Also, he doesn’t trust himself driving to the local Jewel-Osco without hitting a tree. Also-also, it’d be really suspicious for his mom to come home and find her son surrounded by an army of cupcakes.

Once he’s sick of cleaning Kevin goes to his bedroom and cracks open his notes. This is the first time he’s skipped school, _ever_ , but he doesn’t have it in him to act the rebel and smoke cigarettes under a bridge. Studying for the classes he skipped is more up his alley.

The moment he starts to think about the letters again is when he’s at the dinner table with his mom. She returns home after a twelve-hour shift at the hospital, dropping her bag a foot from the couch and trudging to her bedroom to change. Kevin is the one in charge of dinner, which is white rice and a generous serving of beef stew with mixed greens. He sets the table, puts down chopsticks and spoons, and heats everything to warmth.

While they eat, his mom complains about ungrateful patients that order her around. She’s been a nurse for twenty-plus years, more equipped to handle the grossest injuries and ailments, but there are still patients that don’t show her the respect she deserves. From her stories Kevin knows that it’s misogynistic and mildly racist, but his mom always tells him that there are always bad apples in the orchard, no matter how fruitful.

The irrational part of Kevin’s brain does its own thing and makes him blurt, “Hey, mom, I have something to ask.” She pauses her story and asks him what’s wrong. “Nothing! I just... wondered...” He smacks his lips together. “Did you... happen to go into my room recently?”

“Hm? I did, early this week. I was looking for my sweater in your closet.”

Oh, dear. “Did you find anything else?”

“Yes. Some envelopes. I put stamps on them to mail out.” Kevin drops his spoon in his stew. It sinks to the bottom of the bowl. “Why? Did you need those for something?”

“Mom, you—” Kevin gasps. Then, his voice drops to a disbelieving whisper as he says, “ _You’re_ the demonic force?”

“Hyungseo, don’t be mean to me. I’m tired.”

Later that night, she discovers that he’d skipped school. Kevin doesn’t tell her about the letter shit show, but he does confess to his crime of playing hooky. (The school had called home, which is pretty incriminating evidence not in his favor.) When she asks why, he explains that he needed to take a mental health day and recuperate. It’s not entirely a lie, so Kevin doesn’t feel all too guilty telling it. His mom, though, scolds him for not calling and letting her know beforehand.

“I get worried,” she says. “I want you to trust me. Even when you’re scared, you have to trust me. Ever since—” Her voice hitches. “Ever since your father passed, it’s been hard for all of us.”

Kevin wraps his arms around her. She’s smaller than him, shorter. “I’m fine, mom. Promise. It won’t happen again.”

“I’m just worried, okay? Let me worry!” His mom pinches his cheek, hard. “Whatever you’re dealing with, I _know_ you can get through it. You are handsome. You are smart. You are my _son._ Okay?”

He smiles. “Okay.”

——

Thursday morning.

Kevin wakes up, takes one look at his closet, and then rolls onto the floor. He doesn’t know how today will go or what’s in store for him. After that stunt with Juyeon he’ll be lucky to make it to AP Literature without someone bombarding him with questions. He really should’ve made a plan of attack yesterday instead of scrolling through the r/aww subreddit for cute animal pics.

Well. What’s done is done. All he can do now is pick out an outfit to wear and grab a granola bar to-go; he doesn’t want to give himself the luxury of Honey Nut Cheerios today.

Kevin drives with more caution than usual to school. It’s not far-off to claim he’s a little traumatized by his own driving yesterday. (For what it’s worth, he sucks but can abide by the law on a normal day.) Since Chanhee is still sick, he parks on his own. It’s better than the day before’s, worse than an average driver’s, and typical for Kevin. It’s almost like a normal day.

Almost.

There are eyes on him as he walks into the school. He hides under his shirt collar until he reaches his locker, where he sticks his head in and tries to ignore the whispering. Kevin isn’t unpopular per se, with a long list of acquaintances and friends on his phone, but he’s not used to a concentrated spotlight of attention on himself like this. It’s fine when he’s on stage, wielding his trusty saxophone with an ensemble of other musicians, but right now he’s in the wild west, no rules or regulations, privy to strangers who don’t give a damn about how well he can flutter-tongue. All because of him and his stupid letters and his stupid mouth and _Juyeon’s_ stupid mouth and—

“So.”

Kevin slams his locker closed and drags the plaid arm out one of the side doors. It leads to an empty courtyard, luckily, with nothing but the grass beneath their feet and an out-of-commission bird bath.

He’s not about to have this dreaded conversation in the crowded hallway, where literally anyone can overhear and then proceed to ruin Kevin’s life more. He’s had enough for one day, and he doesn’t even have a coffee to comfort him. This isn’t going well at all.

“So,” Juyeon repeats. “Are you gonna tell me what was up with you yesterday?” He has a curious expression on his face, not quite angry or confused.

“I’m hitting you with the TL;DR, Lee,” Kevin says, running a hand through his hair. “I... _kissed_ you yesterday because I had to make sure that my best friend’s ex-boyfriend knew I don’t have any feelings for him.”

Juyeon’s eyebrows pinch together. “And, in doing so, you also proved you don’t have any feelings for me? Or... you do?”

“I do _not._ ” The suggestive quirk of Juyeon’s eyebrow makes Kevin purse his lips. What is with this guy and his eyebrows? Jesus Christ. “Okay, so _I guess_ a TL;DR isn’t cutting it for you.”

Kevin tells Juyeon everything of relevancy, which is _everything_.

He tells him about the love letters, how he hid them in a box and never wanted them sent; that, because of his loving mother, three individuals are now aware of Kevin’s past feelings; how very problematic that is for one individual in particular, who happens to be the ex-boyfriend of his best friend; that kissing Juyeon, albeit the most irrational decision Kevin has made to date, had been to prevent Sangyeon from getting the wrong idea.

Kevin tells Juyeon that this ultimately is no one’s fault but his own, and he needs to hurry and find a way to fix it.

“Ah.” Juyeon whistles. “That’s messy.”

“I _know_ ,” Kevin moans into his hands. “I just wish I could turn back time to stop the letters from going out. Save me the trouble of stressing. Forget all this.”

“What are you gonna tell Sangyeon?”

“I don’t know. I don’t _know._ ” Kevin kicks out his foot. “This is just— just so complicated. I can’t believe this happened. I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

Juyeon buzzes his lips and tilts his head, and Kevin is reminded of a young, mischievous beagle. It makes Kevin apprehensive, like Juyeon is plotting something — and he’s exactly right.

“What if...” Juyeon clears his throat. The corner of his lip lifts. “Why don’t we date?”

Kevin’s pretty sure he has the auditory equivalent of 20/20 vision, but he couldn’t have heard that right. He frowns, stares hard at Juyeon, and says, “Come again, sportsman?”

“You don’t like me, sure, but most of the school already thinks you _do_ because of that kiss. Word travels fast. My best friend in the town over texted me about it.” Juyeon can tell that Kevin isn’t following, so he says, “You can _pretend_ to date me.”

“ _Come again?_ ”

“It’s just a suggestion,” Juyeon says with a shrug. “Pretend to date me and guarantee that that guy knows you’re over him. It sounds like it could work, maybe.”

_Maybe._

Dating someone _may_ be a good cover to convince Sangyeon Kevin doesn’t have feelings for him. The relationship would be a reason not to interact with him, too. _And_ it would explain why Kevin spontaneously locked lips against the lockers with Juyeon Lee. The upsides seem to outweigh the downsides for Kevin, but...

“What would _you_ get out of this?”

Juyeon scratches his head. “Well... I don’t wanna date around anymore. If I’m off the market, I don’t have to worry about going to HoCo or prom with some random girl, and then break up soon after. I’d rather go with friends, to be honest.”

“You could just turn people down when they ask you out,” Kevin says. “Aren’t you an infamous breaker of hearts?”

“Not intentionally,” Juyeon counters. “Anyway, being in a committed relationship is a bigger stop sign than being single and saying no all the time. It’d save me a lot of trouble, at the end of the day.” He pauses. “That is, if you agree.”

Kevin tries to read Juyeon’s expression, his mind, to no avail. “Are you serious about it?” he asks.

“I’ve been told that I’m always serious, so. Probably.”

This proposition, at its surface, works in both their favors. Juyeon gets a boyfriend and doesn’t have to worry about admirers constantly vying for his hand in marriage. With relationship status: taken, Kevin has a reason not to interact with Jacob’s ex. It’s a win-win situation.

If Kevin thinks a little harder, about the long-term effects along with the short-term, maybe he’d see more flaws and decline. If he considers what may become of his heart and his hand, aching to write, maybe he’d realize how dangerous this proposition really is. However, Kevin’s mind is rooted in the moment, where the pieces are fitting so seamlessly into place, so there’s only one thing left to do.

“Okay,” Kevin says. “I’m in.”

Juyeon grins. “Cool.”

“Please don’t tell me you just said _cool_ in response to us dating. Please tell me that didn’t just happen.”

With a laugh, Juyeon plops himself on the ground and asks, “How should we do this?”

“You’re asking me? _You’re_ the one who suggested it!” Kevin exclaims, baffled.

“We’re a team now. Me _and_ you.” Juyeon pats the spot next to him, and Kevin surrenders as he takes a seat. “Gotta figure this out together, Moon.”

“Fine. _Fine._ ” Kevin sighs. “Rules are always a good place to start.”

“I like that idea.” Juyeon takes out a wide-ruled notebook — Kevin is _appalled_ — and opens it to a fresh page. “Number one. Wait, who’s writing?”

Although Juyeon’s handwriting is better, Kevin is the one to take out the pen. He holds off writing, though, as he proclaims, “No one can know we’re not legit. We have to create a proper illusion to make our relationship believable. The less people who know the truth, the better.”

“Does that mean I can’t tell my family?”

Kevin nods. “I think it’d be too risky. Your younger brother is a freshman, right? I have nothing personal against him, but freshmen are literally the worst.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Juyeon says. “Write that down. Number one: no snitching.”

As he writes, Kevin feels obligated to mention the sickly friend of his who has a tendency to stick his nose in other people’s business. “There’s someone who didn’t get a letter who knows all about them. Chanhee Choi, a good friend of mine, because I kind of had a meltdown about it to him.”

“So you’re gonna tell him about us?”

“He’ll suspect us if I don’t,” Kevin reasons. “He’s smart, in an annoying and nosy kind of way.”

“Wait, you get to have someone on your side know? I should have a person, too. Call it even.”

“Even. I get Chanhee, and you get...”

“My best friend. Jaehyun goes to another school, so that’s a plus.” Juyeon watches Kevin asterisk those names below the first rule. “Other than that, we’re doing this like _Fight Club_.” Kevin stares at him, face blank. “Come on. You know what I’m talking about.”

“I do not.”

“What? _You do not talk about Fight Club._ You don’t know that movie? Seriously?”

“Am I supposed to...?”

“It’s a film lovers’ classic! Edward Norton, Brad Pitt, and an exploration into the modern meaning of masculinity.” Juyeon taps line below the first rule and says, “Number two: watch _Fight Club_.”

Taken aback, because he’d never imagined Juyeon as a movie buff, Kevin complies. “We’re making good progress,” he says, impressed. There are still ten minutes until class starts. “Got any ideas for number three?”

“We can, hm... walk together?” Juyeon suggests. “Between classes. We don’t have the same lunch, so... Yeah. We could drive together, too.”

“Slow your roll even slower. Can you drive?” Juyeon nods. “Can you drive _well_?”

“I drive me and my brother to school every day. Does that answer your question?”

“No, sir. Just because _I_ drive to school every day does not mean _I_ drive _well._ ”

Juyeon snorts. “If I tell you I can parallel park, does _that_ answer your question?”

Right away Kevin writes: _4) Juyeon drives Kevin as much as possible_

The rest of the rules come to them faster and with less discussion. They decide to save their names in their contacts with a personalized touch ( _lovely ju_ and _my moonlight_ ). They also make a rule that has them listening to one another’s music playlists so they know one another’s tastes. There’s a rule for study sessions, another rule about attending Juyeon’s home basketball games and Kevin’s band concerts, _another_ rule for miscellaneous dates...

Juyeon exhales. “This is a lot.”

Kevin agrees. “Yeah, but I wrote in pen, which means I’m not crossing anything out. That’d be a Non-Aesthetic thing.” He sighs. “Anything else? We’ve got room for one more.”

“Oh, uh.” Juyeon purses his lips as he scratches under his chin. “PDA?”

“So... Hand-holding?” Kevin suggests with a sideways smile.

“Sure, I can do that.” Because he’s blunt as hell, Juyeon also asks, “Should we be kissing?” Kevin sputters, face heating up. “You’re the one who kissed me first, so I don’t know why you look so embarrassed.”

“That was an urgent circumstance,” Kevin insists hastily. He taps his pen on the page and offers, “Once a week.”

“Kissing is a special occasion, I see.”

“Three times a week,” Kevin amends, just to get Juyeon off his back.

“And you have to tell me before you do it,” Juyeon says.

Kevin makes a face. “Who says I’ll always initiate it?”

“Well, yesterday you practically mauled me—”

“OKAY. I GET IT.”

Kevin refuses to look Juyeon in the eye as he scribbles: _10) KISS SOMETIMES I GUESS_

When Kevin has calmed down, Juyeon nudges him. “We should sign it. Y’know, like a contract to make it feel more official.”

“We made this on wide-ruled paper. This ain’t official.”

Even so, they sign the page. Juyeon’s signature looks like the markings of an infant who just learned how to hold a crayon, and Kevin tells him this. Juyeon pouts, _what the hell_ , and Kevin hurriedly signs his name before he can dwell on that. The paper is filled with text, rules one to ten, both their signatures on the bottom.

“It is—” Kevin closes the notebook, “—complete.”

They high-five.

“Cool,” Juyeon says, and he laughs as Kevin makes a face of disgust. “How long are we planning on doing this?”

“I don’t know.” Kevin shrugs. “Until we need to stop, I guess?”

“Co— I mean, okay. Deal.” Juyeon holds out his hand for Kevin to shake. “Nice doing business with you, Moon.”

“Likewise, Lee.” Kevin smiles. He idly checks his phone and blanches at the time. “Crap, I’m gonna be late for AP Lit—”

“Oh, shit, same but photography.” As they’re scrambling for the door, Juyeon catches Kevin by the arm. “Uh, see you tomorrow? I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Sounds good.”

Once they get back to the hallway, Juyeon stands in front of him and taps his cheek. There are students who stop and watch, curious. Kevin stares at him, and Juyeon hums, acting impatient.

“I don’t have all day.”

Kevin blushes. “Juyeon, really?”

“Gotta start somewhere. We’re one out of three, this week.”

Exasperated, Kevin kisses Juyeon’s cheek. With the amount of cat-whistles and screams it elicits, even at 7:28 in the morning, Kevin knows that he’s in for a long ride.


	3. mvp

Strangely enough, Juyeon makes for a pretty decent boyfriend. Kevin hadn’t expected rose petals or boxes of chocolates, but he’s pleasantly surprised at how well they’re selling this.

Juyeon picks Kevin up from his house every morning on the dot, with his little brother Jung in the backseat, who’d complained that his new boyfriend stole shotgun. (The car is a minivan, which allows for maximum distance between the seniors and the freshman.) He lets Kevin choose what music to play as they drive to school and then chooses the music back home himself. (Juyeon listens to an odd mix of K-pop and movie soundtracks; Kevin introduces iconic, empowering female artists to the Lee brothers via Apple Music.)

During school they walk together when their classes are close. Kevin takes Juyeon’s overly large hand in his, tries not to laugh when Juyeon can’t figure out how to get the both of them through the door. Sure, people stare, but Juyeon is accustomed to the attention with years of the basketball team under his belt. Kevin’s steadily getting used to it.

They share one class — AP Physics — at the end of the day. After it’s over, they walk to each of their lockers and then meet Jung in the parking lot.  When they have practice, basketball or band, they stay later and chit-chat with friends (until Jung, who often stays late for biology tutoring, threatens to hotwire the minivan).

People know they’re boyfriend and boyfriend, and luckily no one has stuck their nose too deep to discover the truth.

Sometimes, Kevin spots Sangyeon in the main office. The elder visits the high school from time to time, delivering documents from the middle school, chatting with the secretaries. Sometimes, Sangyeon sees Kevin and gets that look in his eye, where he wants a misunderstanding cleared, questions answered. And Kevin can’t do that, no, not yet, not now, so he flees to Juyeon and things are fine.

No Sangyeon drama, which means Jacob is none the wiser. Score for Kevin.

The plan is working perfectly. As far as they can tell, the only ones who are aware that Juyeon and Kevin aren’t actually dating are Chanhee and Jaehyun. Kevin hasn’t met this Jaehyun fellow, but the guy is a whole school district away and Juyeon has assured him that he’s an outstanding citizen with no intention of blabbing.

On the other hand, Chanhee has known Kevin since freshman year when they were paired together to dissect a frog in biology. Chanhee always stood five feet from the operating table as Kevin brandished the scalpel. It was a reluctant friendship formed, because Chanhee was really good at making notecards and Kevin really sucked in that class.

They don’t share many interests, but Kevin likes Chanhee’s fresh perspective on rising fashion trends and news updates for LGBTQ legistration. Chanhee doesn’t bother himself with trivial tasks, talks more than he listens, but he’s a good friend to Kevin and has his heart in the right place. When Kevin had told him the truth about Juyeon during a weekend hangout, Chanhee had flipped his hair and said, “As long as yaoi hands takes good care of you, I’m supportive of whatever this shit is trying to be.”

What’s weird to Kevin about the whole fake-dating arrangement is that he and Juyeon aren’t strangers, nor are they friends. Kevin has known him longer than Chanhee, even, except Juyeon exists more like a coworker would in an office space. Since the beginning of time (i.e. middle school) Kevin has only associated with Juyeon when he’d needed to — group projects, in-class assignments, no one else to sit with at lunch. The main reason has been because of their social circles; in the most basic terms: Juyeon is a jock and Kevin is band nerd.  

For the last few years they haven’t interacted beyond the one or two classes that overlap during six-and-a-half hours at school, which means they don’t know much at all about one another. They know surface-level personality traits, like how Kevin is a perfectionist and how Juyeon tends to be blunt, and other random pieces of themselves that come up in idle conversation, like Kevin’s middle name and Juyeon’s favorite subject.

They’ve only ever been classmates, so fake-dating is an act where they’re just starting to learn about each other, one fact at a time.

For example:

When Juyeon talks about all the girls he’s dated — from Susan, the volleyball team libero, to Gretchen, co-captain of the debate team — it comes as a surprise to Kevin once the story ends with, “Yeah, but I’m bi.” He’s known for a year now but hasn’t said it out loud before, he admits, folding the corners of his _Beowulf_ packet.

On the contrary, Kevin has been out since he realized Team Edward may’ve been more than a _phase_. This is the twenty-first century and sexuality is fluid, but it’s not always easy to admit to yourself that you’re not a majority anymore.

“Let me be real for a second,” Kevin says, putting his pen down. “I know it’s hard to say these sort of things, but I’m really glad you did. It takes a lot of guts. Makes you feel manly, right?”

Juyeon chuckles. “Yeah, stronger than ever.” He unfolds the page. “Thanks for listening, Kevin.”

“Any time.” Kevin smiles. “Now, can you help me with this problem? I don’t get how to make a null hypothesis.”

“I got you.”

Maybe, after all this is said and done, he and Juyeon can stay friends.

——

“Homecoming committee?” Chanhee echoes, nose wrinkling in distaste. “A group of kids working to organize the loudest, most spirited week of the semester, which is all to celebrate a _football_ game? Hard pass.”

Kevin clasps his hands together and puts on his best pout. “Please, Chanhee! It won’t be as fun without Jake.” In the past, he’d worked with Jacob and a handful of other students to come up with the themes for spirit week. They would also make posters, decorate, and get school-funded pizza every week during meetings.

Chanhee rolls his eyes, closing his locker and walking off. “Just tell me you’re using me as Jacob’s replacement and go.”

“I’m using you as Jacob’s—”

“You’re not supposed to actually say it!” Chanhee bawks. Kevin pouts harder. “I’ll join you, alright? But I swear, if someone tries to suggest a theme that exhibits cultural appropriation, I’m cutting necks.”

Kevin laughs loudly. “So? Who’re you bringing as a date this time around?”

“Don’t know. No one’s caught my fancy yet. Maybe I’ll go alone.” Chanhee bumps Kevin’s hip with his own. “You’re going with Juyeon, right?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Things are going well with you two,” Chanhee notes, and the leading tone makes Kevin cautious. “When are you gonna call it quits?”

The wording makes Kevin grimace. “Well, um... when we graduate? At least until I get out of this town and never have to make eye contact with Sangyeon again.”

“Do you realize how flawed your logic is? Like, what if he and Jacob get back together? Would you tell them the truth? Do you think you’ll still be fake-dating Juyeon by then?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.” Kevin makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Look what you’re making me do, Chanhee. I’m talking in _malaphors_.”

“English isn’t my forte, Kevin. Don’t use your fancy words on me.”

“We are _literally_ on our way to AP English 12.”

Chanhee flips him off.

——

During statistics, Kevin excuses himself for a quick bathroom break. He’d had one too many iced americanos this morning, courtesy of Juyeon’s Starbucks card. It messes with his bladder, and he just can’t wait until lunch hour.

Kevin washes his hands thoroughly in the sink. (He’s prone to sickness and knows that two-thirds of the male population in the school don’t use hand sanitizer.) While he dries his dripping hands under the hand-dryer, the door to the bathroom swings open. He does the respectful thing and completely ignores the arrival, except the gentle tap on his back makes him jump, alarmed, sleeves rapidly getting damp.

Three years make a very big difference in recognition and familiarity. Round cheeks have lost the soft baby fat, but the dimple is still there. Lean limbs fill the sleeves of an Adidas hoodie, not a dress shirt, and training pants, not slacks. The smile, confidence, and warmth is all the same. Three years pass, which has led to an encounter in the third floor boys’ bathroom involving Kevin and a damn white envelope.

“C-Changmin.”

“Hey, Kevin.” Changmin smiles, brilliant white teeth and dimple on full display. “I’ve been meaning to get a hold of you.”

“You’ve... chosen quite the setting.” Kevin begins to ramble and gesture grandly to his surroundings like a model at a car show. “There are _four_ toilets. A mirror that takes up the _whole_ wall. _Tiled_ floors. _Two_ -ply toilet paper. _Eco-friendly_ hand-dryers.”

“Kevin.”

“Sorry, I’m stalling.” Inspired, Kevin points to one of the bathroom doors and drawls, “ _Stalling_.” He regrets it immediately.

“Your letter came to me last week,” Changmin says, getting right to the point. “I thought I should write back, but we go to the same school now and letters aren’t the best form of communication in the twenty-first century.”

Kevin winces, embarrassed. “I agree.”

For a few seconds Changmin just stares at the letter in his hands, until finally he says, “You didn’t write this.”

Kevin blinks. “As much as I want that to be true—” He looks down, sighs, “—I definitely wrote that.”

Changmin laughs, as if he hadn’t expected that response, and bats his hand. “That’s not what I meant at all, but I get the confusion. I’ll rephrase: the _current_ Kevin didn’t write this.”

“Oh.” Kevin is still confused, and it shows.

“These aren’t feelings you have now,” Changmin declares. He adds, with finger-quotes, “You don’t _like-like_ me anymore.”

“Right,” Kevin says, slow, “because I have a boyfriend...?”

“Right,” Changmin says, playfully mimicking Kevin’s hesitance. “Also, the stuff you wrote about was from years ago, and I know people change.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Which makes me wonder: why did you write the letter the first place? I’m allowed to know, I think.”

Kevin scratches his head, sheepish. “I needed to, um, how should I put this... Get you out of my system? It’s a— a thing I do. Writing love letters that I don’t mean to send, but as you can already tell...” Changmin’s mouth forms an _o_ as he nods. “I really liked your dancing, so. That happened.”

“Seriously? I’m flattered!” Changmin chirps. “I was a mess back then. Didn’t have any coordination, to be honest. Still, I love dancing. I’m on the dance team now so I’m much, much better.”

“That’s... neat.”

“Very neat.” Changmin grins. “I have one more thing I’m curious about, if you’ll let me ask.”

“Might as well.” This is happening, Kevin supposes.

“Was I the only one that got a letter?”

Kevin chokes on his spit. _That_ shouldn’t have happened. “W-What makes you say that?”

Changmin shrugs. “Intuition.” Then, he says, head tilted, “Juyeon?” Kevin’s poorly stifled gasp is enough of an answer. “Your love letter worked out nicely, then. Congrats!”

Contrary to what Kevin had feared, Changmin is taking everything rather well. He remembers the younger boy years ago, presence more mature than his age had been, and now is no different. His words lack sarcasm and bite, no trace of malice as he reacts to Kevin’s explanations. If he’d found Kevin before Juyeon had, maybe all this would’ve been sorted out easier. That’s not something he wants to think about; it leaves a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

“Can we look past this?” Kevin asks. “Me writing to you. You getting a letter. This whole bathroom conversation.”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll respect your decision.” Changmin turns the envelope over in his hands. “Makes me feel good that I had someone thinking about me like this, though. Do you want the letter back?”

“Yes, please.” Kevin takes the envelope and folds it, stuffing it in his back pocket.

“Even though we’re looking past this, I don’t think we have to leave here as strangers.” Kevin makes a confused, mildly concerned face. “We should hang out sometime, I mean. Out of the bathroom and as friends, of course. No hard feelings. You look like you’d be a better friend than boyfriend to me.”

“I’d... like that,” Kevin says. It’s genuine, surprisingly. “Thank you, Changmin. For being so cool about this.”

“Call me a cucumber,” Changmin laughs.

Kevin grins. “We’ll definitely get along.”

——

At the end of the school day, as he waits for Juyeon to grab the books from his locker, Kevin takes the envelope from his pocket and re-reads. Every few lines he outwardly grimaces, wanting nothing more than to go back in time and shake some sense into fourteen-year-old Kevin. He’d known Changmin for, what, two hours? And came up with _these_ _many_ metaphors for his smile? Kevin Moon, romantic or creepy? Embarrassing, definitely.

“What’s that?” Juyeon asks, trying to peer over Kevin’s shoulder. Instinctively, Kevin holds the the paper to his chest. “Fine. Don’t show me.”

“Sorry. It’s Changmin’s letter.” Kevin folds it carefully and puts it back in the envelope. “My letter to Changmin. That one.”

“Oh.” Juyeon frowns. “Aren’t you worried he’s gonna figure us out?”

Kevin blinks. “Uh, well, I wasn’t until just now.” He stuffs the envelope into his backpack and takes Juyeon’s bag without second thought. “I think we’ll be fine! He thinks that I don’t like him now because you’re my boyfriend, so it works out. Kind of true, right?”

As they’re heading to the parking lot, Juyeon lightly pokes Kevin’s side and asks, “Can I see the letter?”

Kevin makes a face. “My letters are top secret, Lee. Theoretically, only _I_ should be the one to have access to them. However, with recent events, I think it’s only fair that myself and the recipient should be allowed to know the contents. Therefore, I am unable to let you see Changmin’s letter.”

“You could’ve just said no and saved yourself the oxygen, man.”

Kevin rolls his eyes. “You wouldn’t want to read it anyway, trust me. Freshman year Kevin was so cringey. Like, cool it with the smiley-faces.” He turns to Juyeon, frowning. “Wait, where’s your letter? What’d you do with it?”

Juyeon juts out his lower lip, eyebrows pinched in thought. “Somewhere at home?” He shrugs. “Kind of forgot about it.”

“Forgot about— Well, I need it back so I can burn it.”

“I’ll find it eventually.” Juyeon puts an arm around Kevin’s shoulders as they get close to a few guys from the football team, high-fiving one as they pass. Leaning close to Kevin, he asks quietly, “Can I kiss you?”

Blushing, Kevin nods. Juyeon gives him a short peck on the lips, causing a round of hoots from nearby students. “Feels weird every time you ask,” Kevin grumbles.

“So you should ask me, next.” Juyeon stares, innocent, at Kevin’s glare. “What?”

“You’ve got absolutely no tact. No filter. You’re worse than the rumors!”

Juyeon just laughs, squeezing Kevin’s shoulder. “You’re coming to the game tomorrow, yeah?”

“I’ve got a new gig as your personal cheerleader, as per our agreement,” Kevin says, smiling. “Do you want me to bring snacks, too? I can bake.”

Hopeful, Juyeon perks up and asks, “Cookies?”

“Aye-aye, captain.”

——

Basketball games fall on Thursday nights. Kevin hadn’t gone to the one last week, despite rule number eight, due to a prior engagement — i.e. dinner duty. Kevin couldn’t abandon his responsibility on the fly. Since it’s just him and his mom, he’s always conscientious of their schedules and who’s providing the meals. Today, though, he’d gotten permission from his mom, who’s more than happy to invite friends to gossip while her son is gone.

Before leaving, Kevin bakes two batches of classic chocolate chip cookies. (He’d asked Juyeon earlier if any of his teammates have allergies; Lionel and Brandon are both allergic to peanuts, so that ingredient stays out of the way.) Kevin puts them in a plastic tray with a handle on top, carrying it to his car and seatbelting it, too.

When he gets to Chanhee’s house, his friend is not very amused that the front seat is taken by a food.

“You suck,” he says, pulling the tray onto his lap while buckling the seatbelt over both himself and the cookies. Like Kevin, Chanhee isn’t one for attending school sports games, leaning more on the side of protests against the budget cuts to the music department, but he’d agreed to come along so Kevin won’t be alone on the sidelines. (Also, for the possibility of getting cookies, if he’s enthusiastic enough.)

Once they get to the gym they sit on the second row of the bleachers, which is basically empty and right at court-level. There are fold-out chairs in front of them, probably for the basketball players, who have yet to appear. The gym can hold hundreds of people, but it’s likely there will only be around two-hundred in the audience, a mixture of students and family from the home and away teams.

It’s already so noisy, with pre-game chatter and the pep band playing “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga. Kevin is friends with a few of the woodwind players, so he waves to them. Jackson and Vicky look shocked to see his presence; Henrietta almost drops her flute when they lock gazes. Kevin sticks his tongue out at them.

As they wait, Kevin talks with Chanhee about the AP Literature assignment and Lauv’s new album, feeling slightly out of place as they sit amongst other shouting audience members. When both teams come onto the court, the noise grows deafening. Their school has orange and black jerseys, while the opposing has black and red. Kevin looks for Juyeon, number _11_ on his back, and waves frantically until the other looks his way. When Juyeon spots him in the crowd he grins and waves back, and then his coach pulls him over for (what Kevin has recently learned is) the tip-off.

In theory Kevin knows about basketball. Jacob, who was on the team for a couple years, had once tried to educate him on the sport. When he visits the Bae household they often have an NBA game playing in the living room, too. The absolute basics: basketball, hoop, free throws, fouls. Jacob has said that there’s nothing much to it.

In actuality Kevin has no idea what’s going on, or where to look. The teams are running back and forth, the ball bouncing from player to player. Juyeon is on the court, but Kevin loses track of him. Sometimes he shoots, or passes, or just stands there, probably doing something important. As the score rises, Kevin finds that it’s easier to just yell, “Go, Juyeon!” when he sees someone in orange and black holding the basketball. By the second quarter he’s torn between watching the game and Chanhee, who’s decided to become a hype-man, apparently.

“Go, sports team! Get points! Play fair! Exercise! Woo-hoo!”

Kevin watches, completely bewildered by how energetic Chanhee’s arm movements are, despite looking less like cheerleading and more like a morning exercise routine for aunties. “You’re really trying, huh?”

Chanhee stops, catches his breath, and jabs Kevin’s chest with his index finger. “This is only because of your cookies, Kevin.” He points to the plastic tray sitting unsuspectedly on the bleachers in front of them. “ _Only_ the cookies.”

“Those aren’t even for you,” Kevin scoffs. “They’re for Juyeon and the team.”

“There is no _I_ in _team_ , Kevin.”

“You’re not even on _the team_. You don’t even like sports!” Kevin exclaims, incredulous.

“We share because we _care._ We don’t discriminate.” Chanhee’s gaze falls onto the baked goods. “Team spirit... Sports... Cookies.”

“Fine. Take one.”

Chanhee pops open the tray and grabs three. Kevin rolls his eyes. With his mission accomplished, his friend returns to his usual anti-sports advocacy, spending the remainder of the game sitting down and scrolling through Tumblr.

On the contrary, Kevin actually watches the game. He claps when the Tigers make a point — two or three at a time, when it’s not a free throw, because that’s how basketball works. Juyeon happens to look at the bleachers when he’s the one to get the score, and Kevin has to cheer louder, then. Chanhee side-eyes him every time, but it’s not like he cares about the game or Kevin’s confusing relationship status.

(Basketball isn’t the most interesting sport, but Kevin finds that it’s not so bad. Two teams running back and forth, tossing a ball up and hoping it makes it in the basket, sounds boring, yeah, but it’s better than soccer and football. In those sports, where it’s basically the same concept, you can barely see the players’ faces.)

The Tigers and the Robins are a close match, so Kevin is either yelling for Juyeon to keep it up or stop slacking. He’s not sure how good or bad Juyeon is actually playing, but it’s in his best interest to direct all his attention on his boyfriend, who looks kind of cool doing those fancy plays. He should, obviously, because he’s the captain and all.

When the game reaches halftime Juyeon jogs up to the bleachers, surprisingly unsweaty for someone who’s been playing for the entire game. He’s running out of stamina, however, so his voice is breathy as he asks Kevin, “Did you see me?”

“You’re pretty hard to miss,” Kevin snorts, but Juyeon still remains bright. “What are you all smiley about?”

“You called me pretty,” Juyeon says.

Chanhee makes a loud, affronted noise. He holds up a hand, deadpan. “Don’t mind me. I’m just dry-heaving.”

The comment makes Juyeon laugh and Kevin push Chanhee off the seat.

Juyeon takes a cookie from the tray and bites into it. He makes a pleased noise and finishes the rest in an instant. “These are bomb,” he says, still chewing as he grabs for another. “Can you bake for every game?”

“I can try,” Kevin says, bashful. He doesn’t give treats often, aside from his family and close friends, so it’s embarrassing to be complimented so openly. “I think baking them would be pointless if you don’t win, though.”

“Then that means we’ll always have to win,” Juyeon declares. He takes a bite of his cookie, determined. “Challenge accepted.”

The three of them talk for a while longer, but soon Juyeon gets dragged back by the coach to go over plays with the rest of the team. He brings the tray with him, sharing the goods, and Kevin tries not to blush as the coach sends him an approving thumbs up. One of Juyeon’s teammates — Will, Kevin recalls — chirps, two cookies in his mouth, “Sugar rush!” When the game resumes, the cookie tray is wiped clean of crumbs.

The Tigers are fierce, pun intended. After halftime they make more shots, steal more balls. The score has them leading by five, then ten, then fifteen. Chanhee is impressed, too, and lets out a few dignified shouts. The final buzzer marks a win for the Tigers, and Kevin automatically jumps to his feet and cheers.

Juyeon, once he’s shaken hands with the other team, goes to Kevin with the most smug expression on his face.

“So,” he begins, “I think I smell some baking in the near future.” Kevin, defeated, sighs. “I can help you, if you’d like.”

Chanhee scoffs, “Why would you wanna do that?”

“Kevin could use an extra pair of hands,” Juyeon says, shrugging, “and — wouldn’t you know it? — I’ve got two very talented ones right here.”

The joke is bad, really bad, but Kevin laughs anyway as Juyeon is suddenly dragged to compare the size of his hands to Chanhee’s. He peeks at Kevin with the smallest hint of a smile, and Kevin feels a tiny stutter in his chest, a telltale sign of something amiss. It’s like the record just got scratched, losing its place in the song.

This isn’t good. No, not good at all. Then, Juyeon chuckles, looks at Kevin fully this time, smiles with his teeth and eyes and brightens to a whole new degree.

“Thanks for cheering me on tonight,” he tells them, turns to Kevin, and oh no. “And thanks for the cookies. You really didn’t have to, but they were amazing.” Oh no. “ _You_ are amazing, Moon. I’m glad you’re my boyfriend.”

Juyeon reaches down to take Kevin’s hand, places a kiss across the knuckle, and oh _no._

It’s all for show, but that irrational part of Kevin’s brain is beginning to think otherwise.

(Oh no.)

——

That night Kevin sits at his desk, quiet. He rocks in his chair, unsure of what to do, unsure of how to feel.

Before he can think twice, before he can remember what brought him into this mess, his fingers tear a page from his physics notebook and write at the top.

_Dear_


	4. popcorn

Aside from the school library, Kevin’s house turns out to be the most convenient location for studying. Juyeon drops Jung off at the skate park with his little freshmen friends, and then he takes a few turns to Kevin’s house for a few hours of productivity. It’s not in the open, where other students can see them acting like a couple, but they’ve found that their study sessions as a cover for fake-dating work spectacularly as legitimate study sessions.

(They can bounce questions and answers off each other from both shared and unrelated classes. Also, it’s good because neither of them likes the big “study” groups their friends often form that don’t get anything done.)

The living room is a comfortable place to set up a homework station. The coffee table is wide enough to fit both them and their homework. Kevin likes sitting on the floor so he’s at eye-level with his papers; Juyeon is fine on the couch, hunched over to write.

They mostly work in silence, with the TV playing the BTS Radio on Pandora, courtesy of Juyeon. Every so often Kevin asks Juyeon about physics, which he has the most trouble with.

“Dumb question, but—”

“No questions are dumb questions,” Juyeon interrupts, focused solely on pressing the buttons of his calculator.

Kevin thins his lips, waits for Juyeon to press _enter_ , and then asks, “Gravity always points... down, right?”

Juyeon glances at Kevin’s assignment. “Yeah. Gravity is down. Your force diagram looks good.” He points to the equation Kevin’s started writing. “Careful with your signs. The normal force is the opposite sign of gravity.”

“And the normal force goes... up? Positive?”

“It opposes gravity here, so yeah.” Juyeon takes the pencil from Kevin and writes a note on the side. “Remember, normal is always perpendicular to the surface. That comes in handy when there are weird angles.”

Kevin grins. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.” After he finishes the problem, circling his answer triumphantly, he leans back against the couch and nudges Juyeon. “You’re kind of smart, Lee.”

“A compliment from Kevin Moon? I'm honored,” Juyeon beams. Kevin rolls his eyes. “But, honestly, I’d hope so. I have to be good to keep my GPA.”

“How do you even have the time to be good at all this stuff? Bio, physics, lit, calc—”

“You’ve got four AP classes, too!”

“I don’t play basketball,” Kevin counters, “and Ms. Watanabe makes music theory a walk in the park.”

Juyeon scoffs, “Says the guy who can play the piano _and_ sing.”

Taken aback, Kevin feels his face burn as he asks, “How’d you know that?”

“My uncle goes to your church,” Juyeon says. “He talks big about the kid from my high school who’s carrying the whole youth choir with his vocals.”

“I am _not_ carrying. I’m just—” Kevin bites his lip. “Offering... support." He throws his pencil at Juyeon, who's not even discrete about laughing. "Oh, shut up.”

When he’s stopped his laughter, Juyeon points out, “You’re on the homecoming committee, Moon. Don’t you get too busy with that to be good at _your_ classes?”

“All we do is eat pizza and make sure no one tries to suggest anything uncultured or crass,” Kevin says. “I'm not inconvenienced in the slightest. You, on the other hand, Mr. Big-Shot-Basketball-Man. Different story.”

“I like physics,” Juyeon reasons, shrugging. “I have to be good at the things I like, no matter my schedule.”

Kevin makes a face. “You don’t have to be good at something to like it,” he says.

“That’s...” Juyeon nods, slow. He twirls his pencil between his fingers. “I guess that’s true.”

They keep studying. Homework, reading passages, scientific research. Juyeon asks about syntax and diction, and Kevin words his phrases concisely. Kevin asks more physics questions, and Juyeon answers them readily. Each time, Kevin is more surprised at how much more comprehensible the content is once Juyeon's explained it. (Mr. Watson is a shitty teacher, also, so the comparison is easy to make.)

“Were you ever a tutor?” Kevin asks, after Juyeon has simplified velocity vs. time graphs for the third time without calling him an idiot in the process.

“I tutor my brother every now and then,” Juyeon replies. “Jung’s papers are atrocious. I can barely get through one read without tearing it to pieces. _They're, there, their. You're, your._ He switches between American English and British English, which makes zero sense—"

"Uh, hate to burst your bubble, but not exactly what I meant."

Juyeon blinks. “So, you mean like... a real tutor?”

“As much as I love hearing about Jung’s lack of academic prowess, yeah. Like a real tutor, with pay.”

“Ha, okay. Then no. Hasn't even crossed my mind. I wouldn’t be a good fit for one.” Juyeon shrugs. “This stuff’s hard for me, too, Moon. I study so much — you don’t even know.”

Kevin quirks an eyebrow. “We helped each other make flashcards for AP chem,” he reminds. It had been a group effort, last year. Kevin let the other kids in class borrow his colored markers and pens. Juyeon was especially careful, making sure he had all of them written down correctly, because Ms. Rivera took points off for spelling, too. “All the ions, remember? You were stuck on permanganate for the longest time.”

“Oh, I was. And you helped me! I totally forgot we did that.” Juyeon smiles. “Well, I guess you do know.” He goes back to punching numbers into the calculator, frowning when he realizes the batteries are dying.

Kevin gives him four AAs and gets an _IOU_ in return, and they keep studying.

——

With nearly a month into the semester, Kevin finally has the chance to Skype his best friend in college. They’ve communicated almost every day, through check-up texts and the occasional phone call, but it's not the same as putting a face to a voice to words. Even if he isn’t physically present, despite being busier beyond belief, Jacob remains a constant in Kevin’s life.

The same can be said for the both of them, really. Kevin is as much of Jacob's support as Jacob is Kevin's. They depend on one another, lend shoulders and ears at the ready. When times are tough, they’re there with advice or scolding or just plain comfort. They confide in one another, trust one another, tell one another everything.

These facts must be known to understand why Kevin is having a small crisis over how to part his hair.

It's Kevin trying to figure out what _normal_ is, because the last few weeks have been anything but. People know him by name. He's interacted with multiple student athletes. Physics has started to make sense. He carpools to school with a freshman in a minivan driven by his fake-boyfriend. (He's still debating what's the most shocking life-change.)

The root cause of it all is the love letters, which have spurred the creation of Kevin’s fake-boyfriend. Juyeon Lee is too good at playing the part, and Kevin has trouble picking apart what life was like _before_ and _after._ If the change is something noticeable, or even wanted.

Once or twice, Kevin has sincerely thought about telling Jacob the truth. Theoretically, it would be easy to sit him down and say, _I used to have a crush on your ex-boyfriend while you were dating._ Then, _I use this letter method to expunge gross feelings I have for people who won't love me back._ There would need to be a more in-depth explanation about the letters afterwards: about the girls and guys who pinched and pulled his heart — some without even meaning to. About the fear of rejection, of heartbreak, of himself. About the doors of his heart that he's been accustomed to locking tight.

(About Juyeon Lee and a wide-ruled paper contract.)

He’s imagined Jacob’s reaction, and in ninety-nine of the hundred scenarios Jacob is devastated, betrayed, regretful. Jacob would blame himself for not seeing it sooner, for dismissing Kevin's pain. Jacob would believe that he and Sangyeon may've never meant to be, and he would hurt.

Kevin can’t do that to him. He’s not prepared to pick at Jacob’s slowly healing heart. The wound is too fresh, too tender. Any poke may lead it to bleed. The wrong press may lead it to scar.

When Jacob can tell him he’s over Sangyeon, or when love prevails and they find one another again, Kevin will work up the courage to come clean. But that’s some time in the future, somewhere down the road. For now, all he can do is sit on his bed and run nervous fingers through his hair, practicing the intonation of his words and figuring out where to angle the laptop's webcam.

“You got this, Moon. Just be yourself. Be yourself.”

Easier said than done, obviously. Kevin tries not to think too hard as he opens Skype.

Jacob takes less than a minute to answer. When he does, a cheerful voice with no accompanying image trills, “ _Long time, no see, Kev! I missed you lots!_ ”

Kevin cracks a smile. “Missed you, too! But your camera’s off so I can’t actually see you yet, Jake.”

“ _Oops._ ” After a couple clicks, Jacob’s face appears on the screen, mouth pursed into a troubled pout. His hair is flat, almost covering his eyes, and he’s wearing a faded youth group shirt from camp. “ _Is that better?_ ”

“Much. I can now see how shabby you look.” Kevin laughs as Jacob gives him a halfhearted glare. “How’s life, college student?”

Talking with Jacob, screen-to-screen, feels like a return home from an ongoing war. Not quite a face-to-face, not quite a heart-to-heart, but a small relief that Kevin has needed.

Jacob talks about his classes and the friends he’s made over rigorous study sessions, Starbucks runs, and an accidental fire alarm at midnight. He tells Kevin how half his teachers are the nicest ever, while the other half probably eat baby bones for breakfast. The part-time jobs he's doing are okay, not too bad but not amazing; he’s made flashcards to carry along and practice during breaks or downtime. His grades are good, but he hasn’t gotten his score back for the test he’d taken last week so it’s up to God. He smiles nevertheless, looks on the brightest side and then asks Kevin how he's faring.

Kevin gives a dramatic retelling of life in the hometown, complete with every minute detail he can remember. He talks about Henry, the first chair clarinet player in symphonic band, and his new dog, which is a corgi that chews on socks. He describes the changed layout of the church’s garden, which has upgraded to only slightly withering daisies. He giggles as he mentions Ms. Yang, strict and mean at only fifty-three, and her newly dyed blonde hair. Jacob is laughing, breathy pitches of air, and it almost feels like normal.

Almost, because Kevin very deliberately Does Not Mention a certain basketball star whose name begins with the letter _J_. Because Kevin has to omit some scenes, blur out some lines. Because he has to lie. That's the only way he can keep his secrets safe.

Twenty minutes later, in the middle of the conversation, Kevin’s phone chimes. It’s a default tone with jazzy chords and bells that he’s used as an alarm for baking since middle school. The title of it reads, _OVEN._ Jacob recognizes the sound; he's helped Kevin by taste-testing new recipes for years.

“ _Cookies are done!_ ” he chirps instinctively, expression cheerful. “ _Am I right? Are they actually cookies?_ ”

Kevin shakes his head, dismissing the alarm. “It’s a batch of brownies for the basketball game.”

“ _Oh, nice. That's... nice..._ " Jacob trails off. " _Wait a second, you’re going to a basketball game?_ And _you’re bringing treats, too?_ ” He frowns. “ _You wouldn’t bring_ me _treats, Kev. You didn’t even go when I played. You hate the smell of sweat._ ”

Kevin freezes. “Change of heart, I think. It’s senior year, so." He laughs nervously. "Getting out there. Living my best life. Altruism.” He hopes Jacob can’t see through his bullshit.

“ _But, why are you making brownies? Is there something going on? Are you friends with someone on the team now? Do I know them?_ ”

Bullshit: failed. Onto Kevin’s next trick.

“My... My brownies are burning,” he declares, looking past the webcam and hoping the excuse is convincing enough. “I’ll call you back another time and— and explain later. Bye, man!”

“ _Uh, okay._ ” Jacob waves. “ _Bye, I guess?_ ”

Kevin slams his laptop closed and grabs the nearest pillow to smother himself with. While it wasn’t the worst outcome, he regrets leaving Jacob hanging like that. They could’ve talked more, about school or church or Tori Kelly’s upcoming tour, but Kevin couldn’t risk getting caught. He has a secret to keep, and the whole point of it is to protect his best friend’s feelings.

It’s better this way. No one is getting hurt.

After another minute, Kevin realizes he legitimately has brownies burning and books it to the kitchen.

——

Tuesday is a day that has discounts at the movie theater, so at night there are loads of people milling around. The recent renovations have made it appealing to everyone, with customizable pop machines and reclinable chairs. The movies out now span different genres, so the crowd is diverse in age. Kids are with their parents, and teens are with groups of friends.

This is the first time Juyeon and Kevin are out in public as a couple, not counting the times in drive-thrus for coffee or McDonald's breakfast. They’ve found common ground over movies, explaining the choice of venue. (After watching _Fight Club_ Kevin can admit that Juyeon's taste in films is actually decent.) This date was arranged by Kevin: watching a critically acclaimed horror movie, with a few extra characters involved.

Glancing around the lobby, Juyeon fixes the hood of his sweater and says, “This is sort of weird, isn’t it?”

Kevin looks up from his phone. “What is? Going to the movies? I thought it was a good idea. We like movies, Lee.”

“No, I mean—" Juyeon scratches his head. “Us going on a double date with one of the guys you had a crush on. That's sort of weird.”

“It wasn’t exactly a crush,” Kevin defends, frowning. “And it’s not... weird.” Juyeon raises an eyebrow. “It’s _not._ We’re cool. He’s a good guy.”

After that fateful meeting in the bathroom, Kevin has made an effort to get back in touch with Changmin. They’ve exchanged Snapchat codes, and Changmin had no problem sending a Facebook Friend Request to Kevin once they started a streak. Most of their conversations have been through Messenger, sometimes in the halls of the school, and Kevin has learned a lot about the junior.

For one thing, he’s noticed two distinct personas about Changmin: dancer and ditz.

The dancer bit is unsurprising. He’s the vice-captain of the dance team, one of the few members who creates the choreographies used in competitions. (“We’re reigning champs,” Changmin had boasted, like he was talking about a passing grade on a quiz instead of _nine gold trophies._ ) Kevin hasn’t seen him dance live yet, but he’s seen the YouTube videos that the dance team post every so often. Covers and original choreography, and Changmin is almost never the center but still enamoring. He dances like he was born to listen and move to the beat.

And then, there’s the ditz. Changmin is an enormous weirdo who feeds the beetles in the courtyard and runs into glass doors because he’s laughing too hard. His favorite genre of movie is the kind that has blood; he quacks at ducks and geese; he wears lensless glasses as a fashion statement. He’s not an introvert like Kevin, but he’s comfortable by himself and listens to true crime podcasts in his spare time. He’s good company to have around.

At least, that's the vibe Kevin gets. He’s getting to know Changmin better, so he's still figuring out his idiosyncrasies.

“Who’s he bringing?” Juyeon asks. “Friend? First date? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

“Unspecified,” Kevin says. Juyeon fixes him with a look. “Okay, to be exact, Changmin said, ‘my Younghoon,’ so. Whatever that means.” Juyeon’s look goes wry. “We’re not that great of friends yet. Calm down.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Quiet, you.”

After a few more minutes, Changmin and his companion arrive. When they enter the building, Changmin holds the door open for the other. His friend is tall, wearing a hoodie with Ponyo on it and ripped jeans. (He would probably be a decent Hollister model in his spare time.). He also looks familiar for some reason, but Kevin can’t place where he’s seen such an attractive face before. He must be ogling too openly; Juyeon snorts and pokes him in the side.

“Good evening,” greets Changmin. He introduces himself briefly to Juyeon and then says, gesturing to the tall figure behind him, “This is Younghoon!”

“Hi, I’m Younghoon.” He raises his hand for a meek wave, and the action reminds Kevin of his little cousins meeting adults for the first time. With Changmin, who so easily exudes sureness, the nervous demeanor is a significant contrast.

“Do you want popcorn or drinks? I’ll buy,” Changmin offers. “I have a gift card!”

“I’m down for snacks,” Juyeon says.

“Awesome! Save me a seat, okay? I’ll be right back.” Changmin slaps Younghoon on the back. “Don’t be shy. I think they’re nice!” He jogs to the concessions counter, leaving the three by themselves to find seats.

They sit towards the center — Juyeon, Kevin, Younghoon. Changmin's seat is saved between Younghoon and Kevin, so Kevin decides to be conversational until the junior returns.

“So, Younghoon,” Kevin starts, “what grade are you in?”

“I-I’m a senior,” Younghoon answers. He clears his throat. "I'm eighteen."

“Really?” Juyeon chirps, and Kevin discreetly elbows him in the side. “I mean, I don’t think I’ve seen you. I thought you’d be Changmin’s age. Like, a junior.”

Younghoon shrugs. “I don’t get out much. I’m... in anime club, so.”

Oh, so that’s how Kevin recognizes him. Jacob hadn’t been _in_ anime club, but he visited every so often to talk to a younger student about One Piece. That student, now that Kevin recalls, had to have been Younghoon. Jacob had taken a photo with him for his contact list, except his hair was brunet and shaggy back then. When Kevin tells Younghoon about their mutual friend, he relaxes a bit and turns a shy pink.

"Jacob is cool. I haven't talked to him in a while, but he's fun." Younghoon wrings his hands. "I don't know many people outside of Changmin," he admits.

“How did you meet?” asks Kevin.

“We’re neighbors,” Younghoon says. “I’ve known him since middle school. We played together after school and fed stray cats. He’s my best friend.” He smiles. “I don’t know what I’d be without him.”

"Cute," comments Juyeon. Younghoon turns a little pinker.

Arm hugging a tub of popcorn, one of his hands carrying a large blue raspberry icee, Changmin shimmies his way to the seat. “I’m back!” he announces. He sits, grinning ear-to-ear. “Are you ready to get spooked, friends? I heard that there are a bunch of jump scares!”

“Uh,” Juyeon and Kevin say.

Younghoon grabs a handful of popcorn and looks over at Kevin and Juyeon. “Do you two actually watch horror movies? You look... nervous.”

“Nervous?” Kevin laughs, glancing at Juyeon, who’s quiet. “We are. Definitely not. That.”

“Yeah,” Juyeon agrees, but even to Kevin it sounds watery. Changmin and Younghoon snicker to themselves.

Before the movie is set to start, Kevin soon gets bored of looking through his phone. He turns to talk to Changmin, but the junior is chuckling at something Younghoon said, the tips of his ears reddening. It makes Kevin hum, thoughtful, so he turns to the other side and taps Juyeon’s hand on the armrest.

“Let’s make a bet,” he whispers. Juyeon raises his eyebrows, and Kevin inconspicuously nods towards Changmin and Younghoon. “Just friends or dating. Bet.”

Juyeon smiles crookedly. “You read my mind, Moon.” He peers behind Kevin, stare concentrated. “They seem lovey-dovey, so I’ll say... dating.”

“Good, because I got my money on just friends.” Kevin holds out his fist. “Loser pays for coffee tomorrow?”

“Plus donuts,” Juyeon says, but Kevin moves his fist away before he can bump it. “What? Gotta carb up for the next game.”

“You’re gonna give Jung diabetes,” Kevin accuses.

Juyeon grins. “Oh, so you’re already admitting defeat and offering to pay for my brother, too? Moon, really, you’re too kind.”

“Shut up.” Kevin bumps Juyeon’s fist, and then the lights dim as the previews begin.

Changmin laughs throughout the film, Younghoon whimpers, and Juyeon doesn’t make a sound. The movie is good, but Kevin screams loud enough for the row behind them to shush him.

——

The next morning, Juyeon buys the coffee and Kevin buys the donuts. The bet had ended in a tie, so they split the rewards. Neither of them could figure out what in the world Changmin and Younghoon exist as.

The mounds of evidence for Changmin and Younghoon’s relationship were difficult to analyze. They'd held hands atop the armrest. They'd fed fries to one another at McDonald's after the movie. They'd stuck together at the hip and spoke like they shared a brain cell. They'd kissed, even, but it was just on the cheek so Kevin ruled it inconclusive.

Juyeon suggests the closest representation of the pair is the alien symbiote Venom and hard-hitting journalist Eddie Brock duo. Kevin can see it; the fictional relationship is too ambiguous to be classified in terms of romantic or platonic or some other _thing_ altogether. It's more of a natural coexistence that may not even have a proper explanation or name.

All’s well that ends well, Kevin decides, because he and Juyeon take a pleasant trip to Dunkin and have a field day picking donuts.


	5. theme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick note: thank u for leaving such lovely comments!!! i appreciate them all!!! unfortunately this fic is taking longer than i thought to edit + write an ending for, so i don't know when i'll have it completely done...... the goal is still the end of the summer tho so Fingers Crossed!!!
> 
> anyway, pls enjoy one of my fav chapters :^)

Jung rolls down the window and shouts at Kevin, who's taking his sweet time walking to the car, “Hey, nerd!” Kevin stops, points to himself. “Yeah, you! Why are you wearing pajamas?”

“Because it’s Spirit Week!” After twirling in place and finishing off with a finger-gun, Kevin explains calmly, “Monday is Pajama Day, i.e. that’s why I’m wearing PJ’s.”

“Lame.” Jung rolls up the window, disinterested. Juyeon activates child-lock.

Kevin climbs into the front seat and huffs, “Come on, freshman. Live a little! I rolled out of bed like this, literally! How fun is that?”

Jung snorts, “You look like a hobo.”

“ _Excuse_ you. That is rude to the homeless, and I take offense to that.” Kevin purses his lips as he pinches the fabric of his pants. “Also, my grandma got me these last Christmas. She picked them out herself.”

“Ducks,” Juyeon comments, starting to drive. “Cute.”

“Duck _lings_ ,” Kevin corrects sharply, “and yes, they are cute. I’m glad that _someone_ appreciates me and my efforts.”

Juyeon smirks, his sly smile reaching his eyes. “I meant your _pants_ are cute, Moon.”

Kevin brings his legs up and pouts. He’s wearing slippers, too, of the pink bunny variety, and they stand out against the black of the seats. “You Lee brothers just like taking out all the joy in spirit week, don’t you?” He glares at Juyeon’s very casual jeans and sweater. “You’re not even wearing pajamas! Today is _literally_ the easiest day to participate.”

Of course, the schedule is organized like that by design, courtesy of the homecoming committee. See, it’s a strategy. Lots of kids forget that Spirit Week exists, so Monday is a good day to have the pajamas theme; basically having to do nothing should incline students to do it. Reverse psychology, maybe? The remainder of the week has more classic themes, all of which require more thought (aside from Class Color Day for the homecoming game).

“I forgot,” Juyeon says simply. Kevin makes a face. “I’ll do stuff for the rest of the week, okay? Don’t sweat it.”

“I don’t sweat.”

“Okay, lizard.”

When they arrive at school Juyeon and Kevin walk together, Jung five steps behind. There are a good number of students wearing pajamas; some have even gone the extra mile, wearing robes, slippers, and/or eye masks. A girl is even carrying a unicorn Pillow Pet. Juyeon rolls his eyes at Kevin's triumphant smile as he takes his hand.

Before they go into the school, when Juyeon gives Kevin a kiss, Jung groans, “ _Ew._ ”

Even as Juyeon’s little brother pushes past them and Kevin trips on his slippers, Monday is warm and comfy and undoubtedly a good start to Spirit Week.

——

“Stop making that face,” Juyeon says, except Kevin physically _cannot stop making that face._ He’s standing outside the car with the door and his mouth wide open, body frozen in elated shock. “I have the heat on, Moon. Get in, please. I am begging you.”

Tuesday — or as Kevin, a proud member of the homecoming committee, calls it: Superhero Day. This is one of those themes where it’s normal to do either something small or go all out. Most kids wear DC or Marvel attire, from shirts to socks; a select few others practically treat the day like it’s Halloween. Since props and masks have been banned, kids typically resort to flowing capes and limited face paint.

(Last year, Kevin had seen someone, barefoot, doused completely in green body paint, wearing purple shorts and shouting, "Hulk Smash!" at every passing period. This event led to the creation of the _WEAR A SHIRT & SHOES _ poster above the water fountain. It's both an inside joke and PSA.)

For today's theme Kevin hasn't done anything spectacular. He's wearing Clubmaster sunglasses and a gray suit, with slicked back hair and an array of rings on his fingers. Jung is wearing a Superman t-shirt, and Juyeon is dressed neck-to-ankle as your friendly neighborhood—

“Spider-Man. You’re _Spider-Man_ , Juyeon!” Kevin excitedly gestures to both the Lee brothers, unable to keep still. “And Jung! You— You tried!” When Kevin squints a little harder, he realizes that the iconic Superman symbol is just a cutout taped onto a plain blue t-shirt. It’s technically still an effort made, so Kevin lets the shoddy craftsmanship slide.

“What’re you supposed to be?” Jung asks, as they’re driving. “Like, what kind of superhero wears sunglasses? A rich businessman? Christian Gray?”

Juyeon frowns, confused. “Don’t you mean Dorian Gray, from the Oscar Wilde novel?”

At this comment Jung looks distraught. “No, big brother. No.” He kicks Kevin’s chair. “Hey, get back on topic. I don’t wanna explain _50 Shades_ to him.”

“Fine.” Kevin straightens his tie. “If you can’t figure out who I am—”

“We can’t, Moon. That’s why Jung asked.”

“No interruptions from the peanut gallery." Kevin pulls his sunglasses down to peer over the frames. "I’m _Tony Stark_ , suited down. Specifically, iron-suited down. This is Armani.”

“Meh,” Jung says, very much unimpressed. As always.

“Wha— _Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist._ ” Kevin looks to Juyeon for assistance, but all he gets is a shrug. “Wow. _Wow._ Tell me you know what I'm quoting."

Juyeon shrugs again. "One of the Marvel movies?"

"Are you serious? And _you_ gave _me_ crap about _Fight Club_... _Avengers_ is so much more mainstream! How did you not know that line!?”

“Truce. Let's re-watch it later,” Juyeon says, sheepish. “I’m sure you’re the perfect Iron Man, anyway.”

“Damn straight! It’s even easier to tell who I am once I put on the glove.” Kevin pats his backpack, where the prop is stored. “I was gonna tape on the mustache-beard combo, too, but I decided against it. Kind of itchy, if you ask me.”

Juyeon glances at Kevin, stare contemplative. “Mm...” He wrinkles his nose. "Can't see it."

“What?" Kevin squints. "Are you implying I couldn’t rock a beard?”

“I’m not _not_ implying that.”

Kevin crosses his arms. “Okay, Spider-Man. To each their own. I'm the best with or without a naked face.”

Both Kevin and Juyeon get too hot in their outfits during the school day. Kevin carries his jacket over his shoulder; Juyeon peels the spider-suit off his torso and lets it hang limp around his waist. The only person who retains his "costume" is Jung and his Superman logo, which he wrongly brags about as they drive home.

Surprising no one, Kevin threatens to take Jung's Superman cutout and eat it.

——

In retrospect, Kevin probably should’ve gone for a kigurumi rather than a full-body shark costume that doesn’t have holes for arms. The former would have given him easy access to his thumbs. The latter means he’s stuck flapping against the side of the minivan, glaring at Jung through the window.

“Are you gonna open the door, twerp?”

 _I can’t hear you_ , Jung mouths, because Kevin knows for a fact that little sucker isn’t even saying those words out loud.

Juyeon steps out of the car and says, “I got you.” He opens the door and Kevin throws himself inside, struggling in his shark suit. “Jesus Christ. Where’d you even get this?”

“Amazon,” Kevin answers, out of breath. When he’s finally able to get onto the seat, he gestures a fin to the top of Juyeon’s head. “Your ears are... cute.”

They are, honestly. Kevin’s pause is just for dramatic effect. Juyeon is wearing a tiger headband, where the ears stick out of his hair. The fur looks soft.

“Thank you,” Juyeon says brightly.

Kevin gestures again. “You’re missing the details, though. Nose and whiskers. I could probably draw them, if you want. Complete the look.”

Juyeon reaches over Kevin and opens the glove compartment. He pulls out a black Sharpie, holds it up, and then asks, “Will this work?”

“Permanent marker,” Kevin reads, and Juyeon nods. “Just to be clear, you’re allowing— no, _telling_ me to draw whiskers on your face. In permanent marker.”

“Pen would tickle more.”

Kevin blinks. “Storing the fact that Juyeon Lee is ticklish for future reference.” He grins. “Okay, all good. Give me your face. This’ll only take a second.”

After he wriggles his arms free from the shark suit, Kevin uncaps the Sharpie and takes a steadying breath. With his fingers holding Juyeon’s chin, he draws three neat lines on each side of the senior’s cheeks. Then, he colors the tip of his nose. It takes a bit longer than anticipated; Juyeon squirms when Kevin presses a little too hard and Kevin has to keep his hand on Juyeon's thigh to get him to stop.

Once he’s done, Kevin hums. “There,” he says, giving Juyeon’s face one last pat. “You’re perfect, tiger.”

Juyeon grins and imitates a snarl. “Rawr.”

“Don’t. Don’t do that.”

When Younghoon, sporting dog ears and a collar, sees them together later, he yells, “Tiger shark!” Juyeon falls into a fit of giggles, and the only reason Kevin doesn’t laugh is because he hadn’t thought of it himself.

——

Undoubtedly, Kevin’s favorite theme falls on Thursday.

Disney. The big _D_. The name itself is written in the stars and stored within the hearts of millions. Dreams are a wish your heart makes and all that jazz. Good stuff that has lasted the test of time.

Kevin is a sucker for it. He doesn’t call himself a die hard Disney fan, but he does have an organized list of favorite animated movies, favorite princesses, and favorite musical numbers, which really isn't as eclectic as it sounds. He’s grown up with it, and the movies and shows that were made alongside his growth likely shaped his perspective of the world.

This year, the Disney theme is also the homecoming dance theme. Kevin has planned out the designs and layouts, helped buy banners and decorations. He and the others on the homecoming committee hope to make a Magical Kingdom vibe, with blue lighting and Mickey Mouse confetti. Everyone is welcome to transform into their favorite prince or princess, or something in between Disney hasn’t synthesized yet.

Dressing up _Disney_ during the week is meant to be less formal and more creative — characters from the movies that don’t have the ball gowns or tuxedos. Like Superhero Day, there are students who take it easy, wearing _Big Hero 6_ graphic tees or Cheshire Cat socks. And then there are others who go out of their way like they’re about to attend the nearest Comic Con, equipped with the outfit and as many props they’re allowed inside the school.

Kevin’s choice is clearly the latter. He picks his favorite character from _Up_ , the lovable and clumsy Asian-American Junior Wilderness Explorer. The costume is basically a Boy Scout uniform, and he completes the look with a rainbow of balloons attached to his backpack.

When Juyeon pulls into the driveway, Kevin throws open the backseat with a bright grin. “Good morning!” he greets cheerily, proceeding to shove half a dozen helium-filled balloons into the car.

“Your balloons are gonna _suffocate me_ ,” Jung wheezes. He flails around and hits a few balloons in the process; his life is inconvenienced, not endangered.

“I’ll help you put the rest in the trunk,” Juyeon says.

As they struggle to push the balloons below the rearview window, Kevin discreetly sizes Juyeon up. Stares at his shoes, pants, shirt. It’s— It’s not because of his looks, no. Kevin is trying to see how Juyeon dressed up today. He’s been super curious; Juyeon wouldn’t tell him even though they’re both Disney fans.

So, he stares at Juyeon. He’s wearing tie-dye Vans, dark jeans, and a tie-dye shirt under a blue sweater. The tie-dye is predominantly yellow at its front, some pinks and reds and oranges at its sides. Juyeon also has a headband with blue puffballs attached to it like antenna, and upon closer inspection there’s a hint of orange on his nose, wait, oh, my God—

“YOU’RE KEVIN.”

Juyeon cracks a grin. “Clever, right?” He puts his hands in his sweater pockets, procuring an unopened bar of chocolate. “You seemed so excited about dressing as Russell, so I wanted to surprise you. Surprised?”

“I hate you,” Kevin says with no real bite, trying and failing not to vibrate with excitement. “Jung, hurry and take a picture. I’m about to scream.”

Later, in between classes, Juyeon says, “This getup makes me feel like a peacock.” He does a quick twirl, flicking a puffball on his head.

Kevin beams. “Fun fact! Male peacocks have vibrant feathers to attract a mate. The whole deal has to do with sexual dimorphism and sexual selection. Pretty funky.”

Juyeon stops walking. Kevin watches him as he suddenly begins to pose, hands on his hips, chin held high. The display garners a few snickers and definitely someone Snapchatting him, but he continues, unbothered. When Juyeon asks, “Is it working?” Kevin feels himself blush.

“Dork,” he says, wondering how many balloons it’ll take for him to fly into the sun.

——

Friday, in terms of themes, is very boring. Since the homecoming football game is in the evening, the day is all about showing school spirit. Orange and black are the official school colors, but each class is assigned its own color. Freshmen: red, sophomores: green, juniors: purple, seniors: orange.

While they’re walking into the school, Jung can’t help but complain about the color scheme of the decor as he trails behind his older brother and boyfriend.

“Why do our school colors suck?” he groans at Kevin, like the senior has some sort of control over a century old tradition. “My eyes hurt. It’s like someone barfed on Halloween.”

“Well, I don’t have much argument there,” Kevin sighs, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Orange makes me feel like a pumpkin.”

“Pumpkin pie?” Juyeon tries, his arm snaking around Kevin’s waist.

Kevin snorts, “If you’re going for a pet name, I suggest you steer away from anything related to Thanksgiving. You’ll make me hungry.”

“So... that’s a no for cranberry? Cornbread? Mashed potato? String—”

“Honey,” Kevin interjects. The term comes out by accident. He calls lots of his friends that to be playful, but it sounds... different, when he says it for Juyeon. He blushes, clears his throat, attempts to play it off. "Let's not go there."

“But I like that one.” Juyeon squeezes Kevin tighter. Grins. “Honey. It’s sweet.”

“Hello, just a reminder: this is your little brother, trying to send you _stop being gross_ vibes behind your back. Thanks.”

The school day goes by in a flash. The teachers don’t give students much homework, and everyone takes it easy. There’s a short pep rally in the auditorium at the end of the day that Kevin helps facilitate, with students competing against teachers and each other. The sophomore class wins the relay race and earns a free cookie next time they have lunch. The football team gets a shout-out; Mrs. Emmerson, the school counselor, gets dunked in a water tank for a local charity. Everyone is hyped for the homecoming game, which makes Kevin even more excited for the dance tomorrow.

That night, Kevin goes with Juyeon to the football game. He normally skips the homecoming game entirely, with the sports aspect of the festivities not a priority for him, but he supposes he might as well go in honor of his final year at high school. They get there a few minutes before the game starts, having gotten drinks from the concession stand, which means the seats are pretty packed. As they’re looking for somewhere to sit a long neck and waving arm catch their attention, so the two of them head towards the top of the bleachers.

“Hey, Changmin,” Kevin greets, sitting beside him. “Are you here alone?”

“Nope!”

“With Younghoon?” Juyeon asks.

“Nope!” Changmin says again. He jerks his thumb to his other side, where two boys are chatting away. One is wearing a backwards Angels cap and the other has a studded nose piercing. “I’m here with part of the dance team. Baseball boy is Eric, and the emo is Hyunjoon.”

At the mention of their names, the two turn. “Peace,” Eric says, and Hyunjoon completes the motion for him.

After Kevin and Juyeon given the freshmen a brief introduction of themselves, Changmin explains, “This isn’t really Younghoon’s scene. Not really mine either, to be honest. But the kids wanted to experience the homecoming game, so I offered to drive!”

“You should stop calling us kids,” Hyunjoon remarks.

Changmin chooses to ignore the suggestion, reaching over and attempting to hug both Hyunjoon and Eric in his arms. It sort of works, but since Changmin isn't that tall the end result is most of his body in Eric’s lap. “My babies, whom I’ve birthed and raised all on my own.”

"My mom would fight you if she heard that," declares Eric. Changmin scoffs.

"Mama's boy," Hyunjoon murmurs under his breath, and somehow Juyeon hears it and chokes on his drink.

Kevin laughs. “Let’s just enjoy the game, everyone. I think they're about to start.”

Like every sport in existence, aside from figure skating and more recently basketball, Kevin has no idea how football works. What he _does_ know: there are two teams, way too much bodily injury, and a ball made of leather. He’s seen parts of the Super Bowl, when he’s watching the commercials and the half-time show, but he has no clue where the points come from or how concussions aren’t illegal.

Their team is orange and black, in contrast to the white and purple of the opponent’s. He keeps track of those jerseys, cheering when the crowd cheers, reluctantly booing when the crowd boos. Changmin and Hyunjoon are similar to himself, in terms of sports knowledge, so Juyeon explains the game to them during breaks. Changmin is quick to understand, Hyunjoon doesn't show much interest regardless, and to Kevin it all sounds like a foreign language. Still, he likes Juyeon’s enthusiasm, because he’s passionate and excited and—

“Touchdown!”

—hugs Kevin so tight the breath gets knocked out of him.

When it’s half-time, the roles are switched and it’s Kevin’s time to shine. The marching band is performing, and even though he’s not a member this year he still keeps tabs on them. He explains to Juyeon and the others how it works. The weeks of grueling practice, memorizing positions and sheet music. He even takes the time to call out the flutes’ drooping angles, which really take away from the professionalism of the band.

“Nerd,” coughs Hyunjoon, and Kevin reaches over two bodies to shove him for it.

Kevin also sees Lauren, spinning her flag at the front of the field, none the wiser to his true past feelings and his current plight to save face. She has her hair in a high braid, and she leads the rest of the color guards. He wonders if he can ever tell her about the letter. He wonders if it would even matter. He wonders, and keeps it at that.

The game resumes and, according to Juyeon, is neck and neck. When the clock winds down to it, the score is tied with their school having possession of the ball. Whistles are blown, someone gets knocked down, and then one of the players is ready to kick the ball into a goal post. Then, the whistle is blown again and the kick goes in the air, through the posts.

And twelve seconds later, apparently, that means they win.

The crowd goes wild. Kevin springs to his feet, grabbing onto Juyeon’s arm, and exclaims, “We won! We won! We—”

The words are interrupted by a pair of lips, placed warmly over his own. A pinch of pain from being startled, a wave of pleasure from the sensation. The moment lasts, the kiss is gentle, and Kevin almost forgets where they are. What they are.

What they aren’t.

“Sorry, got caught up in the moment.” Juyeon’s words are too soft, his smile too mild. “That’s two this week, right?”

Kevin nods, mind unable to form the words.

“Good.” Juyeon lightly pinches Kevin’s cheek. “Then I still have one left for the dance.”

Kevin feels lightheaded and warm all over. That’s probably not a good sign but, like many other aspects of his life, he pointedly ignores it.

(Spoiler alert: it’s foreshadowing at its finest.)


	6. saturday

Some indeterminable time before dawn, Kevin jolts awake with the worst feeling brewing in his gut. He speeds to the bathroom, hand slapping against the bowl of the toilet, and immediately empties his stomach. It’s a terrible experience that he wouldn’t even wish upon his most hated enemies. Freezing but hot all over, sweating and shivering simultaneously. 

What the hell happened to him? 

He tries to remember the night prior, tries to recall if someone poisoned his food (or, more likely, he'd just gotten food poisoning), but he doesn't remember eating anything suspicious. Actually, he doesn’t remember many details from last night. 

After the game, Changmin and his freshmen dancers wanted to go out to eat for dinner, and the invitation was extended to Juyeon and Kevin. The friendly offer was graciously accepted, so they went to Denny’s and had breakfast for dinner. Kevin’s appetite was near nonexistent, but he remembers being more focused on the conversations anyway. He learned about Hyunjoon’s up-and-coming Instagram influence, saw pictures of Eric’s growing Marvel figurine collection, and got schooled by Changmin on the fall’s K-pop comebacks. Juyeon also found out that Kevin is #TeamWaffle, while he himself prefers the flat, spongey opponent. (Agree to disagree, even though Kevin is right.)

They’d talked so much that food was not at all a priority. Kevin didn’t think too much about his full to-go box that held nearly all his scrambled eggs. Afterwards, around midnight, Juyeon dropped him off at home and Kevin was out like a light. 

At the time, he blamed his exhaustion on the festivities and the high energy of the football game crowd and Juyeon being _Juyeon._ It hadn’t even occurred to him that he could be _sick_ with some sort of stomach bug.

Curse him and his weak immune system! This sort of experience should occur when he’s on spring break during college, not when he’s a mere senior in high school the day before homecoming. 

Oh, shit, homecoming. 

 _Shit,_ homecoming. 

“Heck,” Kevin grunts. 

Because she leaves for work at five sharp, his mom finds him like that an hour later: her only pitiful son, lying helpless on the bathroom floor, trying to keep the contents of his stomach down. 

She brings him onto her lap, pinching his cheek. “Hyungseo, can you hear me? Hello?” She pinches him harder. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he groans. “Hurts. Everything. Ow.”

“Oh, Lord, you dumb boy. Let’s get you back to bed.”

With his mom carrying his dead weight, Kevin gets escorted back to his room and plopped onto his bed. His mom tucks him in, gives him a slap on the forehead, and leaves the room. When she returns, she presents a whole array of medical supplies and medication, giving Kevin a flashback to his younger self getting treated for chickenpox. 

As he’s getting his temperature taken, Kevin makes a gargled whining noise in his throat and tries to sit up. His mom scoffs, pushes him back down, glares daggers. Once the thermometer beeps and his mom takes it from his mouth, he switches to whining verbally.

“Homecoming,” he murmurs, head spinning. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to keep his breath steady.

“You’re not going.”

Kevin's eyes fly open. “ _What._ ” (Ow.)

“You’re in no condition to,” his mom chides. 

“B-But... I have to set up... The committee... I need to dress nice... Me and Juyeon—”

His mom clicks her tongue, hitting the bed with her hand. “Hey, be quiet. Look. Look at yourself, Hyungseo.”

“I don’t wanna. I’m ugly and gross.” Kevin pouts, clutching his sheets tighter. “I... see your point, mother. I surrender.”

With Kevin reluctantly docile, she continues to fuss over him, getting more blankets and a wet towel. Eventually, his mom has to leave for work; her shift is until the evening today. Before she goes, she promises to be home as soon as she can to check up on him. There’s a pot of rice porridge on the stove, with bits of shrimp and green onions, that he can heat later when he gets hungry. 

(If Kevin steps a foot out of the house, she threatens, he can kiss his phone and car goodbye, too.)

Long after she’s gone, Kevin is left squinting at his ceiling with pursed lips and a pinched brow. Sulking. He’s disappointed in himself for not recognizing the symptoms of sickness and in his immune system for not being stronger. He can usually catch when he’s feeling unwell, but he must’ve been distracted by the homecoming game, the heat of the winning moments, and kissing—

Hold the phone.

Yes, Kevin, hold the phone because it is currently ringing. The vibration nearly makes it fall off the nightstand. Without checking the caller ID, he unplugs it from the charger and answers. 

“Hello?” 

“ _Are you ready for D-Day? Disney Day? You see what I did there? Uh, hear. Hear what I did._ ” There’s a quiet sigh. “ _It was funnier in my head, okay._ ”

Even in his disastrous state, Kevin can’t help but feel reinvigorated by Juyeon's terrible jokes. It doesn’t last long, though, as his head starts to pound again. “Sorry. Can’t go, hon. Sick.”

“ _Wait, what? What happened?_ ” 

Leave it to Juyeon to ask that, expecting an answer. “Don’t know,” Kevin replies weakly. “Woke up. Tasted death. Hated it.”

“ _Huh_ ,” Juyeon says. There’s some rustling on the other end, which sounds like keys against a jacket _._ “ _Stay put. I’m on my way over._ ”

Alarmed, Kevin sits up and gets even more lightheaded than before. “What? Here? Why?”

“ _You need company._ ”

Kevin shakes his head. It takes him a few seconds to realize he has to say words, too. “No, _you_ need to get ready for hoco, because _I_ don’t need anyone. I’m fine.” He whips his blanket over himself and loudly knocks a lamp onto the floor. “Ignore that. I’m being burgled.”

“ _Do you have anything worth stealing?_ ”

“Yes, and I'm choosing to ignore that poorly disguised insult.”

Juyeon chuckles. (How _dare_ he.) “ _What kind of soup do you like?_ ”

“Clam chowder. Wait, what kind of— What the hell?”

" _I'm gonna get you soup,_ " Juyeon proclaims simply.

"Stop. I’m okay.” Kevin pauses, mentally reviews the last few hours, and then concludes, “Okay, no, I’m not okay, but I don’t need soup.”

“ _How about Gatorade?_ ”

“No, I don’t want—”

“ _I heard coconut water is good, too. Wait, you should eat still. Crackers? That’s a good snack. You should eat crackers._ ”

Surrendering, Kevin curls onto his side and sighs dramatically. “Fine. Sure. Crackers and coconut water. Please, just. Shh.”

“ _Okay. See you in a bit, Moon._ ” 

Kevin hangs up, groans, and puts his phone back on the charger. He blames his complacent behavior on the sickness and the sickness only. Juyeon has nothing to do with how he acts, whether he can be strong-willed or a pushover.

Whatever. Future Kevin can handle this mess later.

——

“Hello,” Juyeon greets, standing at the doorstep, a Jewel-Osco grocery bag in hand. He takes one long look at Kevin, who’s burrito-ed himself in his comforter, and says, “You should sit down.”

“Whose fault is it that I had to get up in the first place?” snaps Kevin. Juyeon’s unaffected by the outburst, but he still regrets it, biting his lip and quickly allowing Juyeon inside. “Sorry, I— I’m mean, right now. Grouchy. Sick.”

“You’re mad at me,” Juyeon tacks on, a matter-of-fact statement with the slightest hint of questioning.

Frustrated, Kevin grumbles, “Yeah, I’m mad. Because you’re _here_ instead of—” He makes another whining noise. “Instead of hoco. All my hardwork. My _efforts._ Wasted. You should experience... experience all that.” He just wants Juyeon out — out of sight, out of his _house_ , with whatever reason, because he’s delirious and disgusting and doesn’t trust himself to keep his mouth shut. 

But Juyeon just. Shrugs. “I forgot to rent a tux.” Grins. “Let's hang out.”

“I have a fever! I threw up! I— I could be contagious!” Kevin exclaims, baffled.

“I’ve got a strong immune system,” declares Juyeon. Come _on._

Kevin tries again. “What about your friends? Won’t they miss you?”

“You’re my friend, too.”

Oh. Oh, Kevin is very warm. “Barely,” he murmurs, tightening the blanket around him anyway. 

Frowning, Juyeon puts the grocery bag on the coffee table. “I won’t take offense to that because you’re sickly.” He turns. “Have you eaten yet?”

Kevin shakes his head. “The food is on the stove. Just have to heat it, but I'm not—” His stomach growls, “—hungry.”

Juyeon laughs. “Take a seat. I’ll get you your breakfast.” He exhales tiredly as Kevin refuses to move. “Moon, work with me. You look like you’ll topple over if I just blow on you.”

Unfortunately and regrettably, Kevin’s mind hears something very much different (and his cheeks turn even pinker) so he decides, yes, sitting is good. Sitting. Kevin sits.

Juyeon takes to Kevin’s home well. He’s been here a number of times before, so he doesn’t have to ask where things are located. He grabs a bowl and spoon from the cabinet, asks Kevin how hot he’d like his porridge, and decides to make it moderately warm when Kevin doesn’t register the question. After the porridge is done Juyeon returns to the living room, where Kevin is sprawled on the couch, dazed and confused.

“Hello? Earth to Moon?” Juyeon waves a hand in front of Kevin’s face. “I got you food.” 

With a noise of affirmation, Kevin pulls himself up and stares at the bowl. 

“What? Do I have to do the airplane thing?” When Kevin doesn’t respond, Juyeon elaborates, “To feed you, I mean. My mom did that for me, when I was a kid. There’s the train thing, too. I used to do that with Jung.”

Kevin thinks about it. “Airplane,” he concludes. 

Juyeon feeds him half the bowl. Kevin eats slowly, barely needing to chew, wanting to take it easy on his stomach; the nausea has passed but he still wants to be careful. The airplane motion helps the porridge cool as well as makes him smile. When he’s full, Juyeon lays him back down and tells him to rest.

So, Kevin makes his best attempt. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy. His body alternates between hot and cold, so he’s constantly throwing off his blanket and pulling it back on again. Juyeon tries to get him to calm down by sitting beside him, patting his head and telling him facts he learned from an animal documentary he’s started. It doesn’t put Kevin right to sleep, but it helps. 

The nap doesn’t feel like long at all. By the time he realizes he’s even fallen asleep, it’s already over. He exhales quietly, the taste of grogginess fresh in his mouth. His body feels sore, but his temperature feels like it’s getting closer to normal. Carefully, he turns on his side and sees Juyeon, flat on the ground, staring up at his phone. He’s watching a video with such concentration, yet has a hand scratching under his shirt like a lounging bear. It’s a strange sight to see.

When Kevin clears his throat, instantly Juyeon startles and drops his phone on his face. Kevin doesn’t hide his snort.

“Ouch.” Juyeon rubs his nose and sits up. He cracks a grin. “Mornin’, Moon. You were out for a while. I’m nearly done watching _Planet Earth_. The jungle is wild.”

“I like _Tarzan_ ,” Kevin comments offhandedly.

“You like every Disney movie,” Juyeon says, and Kevin doesn’t disagree. “Now that you’re up, can I check your temperature? Gotta see if you’ve cooled down.” Kevin nods. “Don’t move until it’s done.” 

“Mm-kyu,” Kevin babbles. A minute later, after Juyeon’s taken the thermometer out of his mouth, he asks darkly, “Am I still dying?”

“100.5 degrees, so not too bad but not great either. Better than earlier, definitely. Oh, your mom called while you were sleeping. Told me about your fever and how you were cuckoo this morning.” Juyeon hands Kevin a glass of water. “Do you wanna go back to sleep?”

Kevin shakes his head, sipping carefully. “No. No more sleep. I’m sleeping too much. I’m gonna get a headache.” He winces. “Wait, no, I have it now. That. That’s pain right there.”

“I’ll get you Advil.”

Juyeon jogs to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and returns with a small bottle of painkillers. Kevin watches as he reads the label and carefully takes out a pill. It looks like a piece of candy between his fingers, funnily enough. 

“Down the hatch,” Juyeon sing-songs as Kevin swallows the pill. He holds out a red box. “Cracker?”

“I’m not a parrot,” Kevin mutters, lips pursed, “but thanks, I’ll take it.” 

As Kevin snacks, Juyeon looks through the DVD cases in the shelf next to the TV. He picks out one after another, putting them in a stack, humming to himself. Kevin can’t see well enough to distinguish what movies he’s choosing, which is sort of worrisome given how expansive the Moon Movie Collection is. 

“Whatcha doin’, Lee?”

“Puttin’ on a movie, Moon.” Juyeon continues to sift through the DVDs, back towards Kevin. “We’re about to have a Disney movie marathon. What’re your picks? _Up_ , for sure. I like _Wreck-It Ralph_ , too. Do you think we have time for _Pocahontas_? Maybe.”

“Why are we marathoning?” Kevin asks, confused. 

“Well, since you can’t go to homecoming,” Juyeon starts, “I’m making our own Disney magic.” He turns, smiling. “So? Thoughts?”

Kevin’s heart skips a beat. “I love—” _Nope._ “I love that idea. You... You should choose. I don’t mind.”

Juyeon doesn’t catch his blunder, happily putting the disc in the DVD player. “ _Wreck-It_ goes first.” He jumps onto the couch and tugs half the blanket from Kevin. “Come on. Share.”

“I’m sick,” mutters Kevin.

Pulling his legs up, Juyeon lays his head on Kevin’s shoulder and says dismissively, “Yeah, yeah. Shh, the movie’s starting.” 

——

Even after his mom texts him she’ll be home later than anticipated (“Everyone has pneumonia today!”) the night isn’t lonely or boring. Juyeon is here, keeping Kevin entertained. They watch movies, talk in the silences. As the hours pass more surprises come to the door, literally. 

It starts around seven, near the end of _Lilo & Stitch_. Holding a white take-out bag, the top button of his pink dress shirt undone, Chanhee appears like the uninvited relative to a cousin’s baptism ceremony. (The instance happened shortly after he’d come out of the closet, which is a story for another time.)

“I’ve got Panda Express, sicko,” he declares. “Hope you like their fried rice, because that’s what I got you and I refuse to go back to that hell-hole.” 

“Thanks, fam.” Kevin prefers the chow mein, but he keeps his mouth shut. Can’t have Chanhee going on a rant about American culture and its fascination with Asian cuisine. 

Then, twenty minutes later, Changmin and Younghoon are entering the house with Starbucks. 

“Crap, maybe hot tea would’ve been better,” Changmin says as Younghoon hands Kevin a grande cold brew. “Y’know, since you’re sick and all.”

Kevin cradles the drink against his cheek. “No, no, no. Coffee is good. Caffeine is good. Very good.” Juyeon grimaces.

“You sound like a junkie,” Younghoon snickers. 

“I know my limits.”

The two are in matching outfits: dress shirts with different shades of red and black slacks. They actually match with Chanhee, making the latter sputter in disbelief once he notices. As far as first impressions go, it’s quite embarrassing for the high and mighty Chanhee Choi, who claims to be _the_ unique trendsetter extraordinaire. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Chanhee huffs. He scoots away, narrowing his eyes at Changmin and Younghoon. “Giraffe. Maltese.” 

Changmin laughs. “Pleasure meeting you, too. Are we going by animal codenames? I like it!”

“Penguin,” gasps Younghoon, and Chanhee screams.

Kevin doesn’t know why they’re all here, how they knew to bring food and drinks, but he loves the company nonetheless. It’s like being in a personal movie theater, minus the obnoxious children and the overbearing smell of butter. 

Chanhee and Changmin haven’t watched many animated movies, so the reactions they show are genuine. Chanhee runs his mouth and doesn’t stop, despite Juyeon’s shushing, until Changmin physically shuts him up. Younghoon is shy for only a short while; after Chanhee calls Belle a furry, his Disney Princess Protection Instincts are successfully activated and then he’s throwing empty take-out boxes at the blond. Kevin would join in, too, but he’s still lightheaded and finds the whole thing more fun to watch, anyway. Juyeon gets him another pillow before he even realizes. 

When Kevin’s mom returns from her shift at the hospital, she’s a little more than confused. The boys are watching _Chicken Little_ , an underrated classic. At some point Chanhee had challenged Changmin to stuff as many fortune cookies into his mouth as he could, and they’re up to six. (Did they remove the fortune slips beforehand? Unclear.) Juyeon is drinking from a Capri-Sun, Younghoon is sprawled on the floor, and Kevin is dozing off. 

“Sleepover?” she prompts.

“Um,” Kevin says.

Juyeon nudges him. “Might as well, right?”

So, sleepover. Knock-off Chinese food, coffee, and Disney — not exactly what Kevin would call his ideal combination, but it works. It’s not a perfect substitute for a senior’s homecoming either, but he’s content. 

——

Two a.m. 

Burnt popcorn.

_Up._

“Thanks for being my homecoming date,” Juyeon whispers in Kevin’s ear, gently pressing a kiss on his cheek. Changmin, Chanhee, and Younghoon are too busy fighting to stay awake to notice it. 

Kevin smiles. “Thanks for being with me,” he says. 

Juyeon squeezes his hand, kisses him on the same spot again. “Thanks for letting me.”

_Adventure is out there!_


	7. kombucha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longer chapter!! i re-read it once so mistakes may be present!!!! and i probably Won't finish this fic by summer's end!!!!!! so if i don't return again for a while, i'm sorry!!!!!!!!!! but thanks for all the comments!!!!!!!!!!! u make my day brighter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In the weeks following, nothing major happens to Kevin’s relationship with Juyeon. If anything, everything feels deceptively normal, even after Juyeon had pulled that stunt during homecoming. No one had questioned him ditching the dance to be with his sick boyfriend. That was teen romance at its finest in the face of high schoolers: Starbucks and binge watching on a Saturday night. 

These days, they fall into a comfortable routine. Kevin studies for finals with him, and for healthy breaks they go out for coffee. Recently, Juyeon has been coming to Kevin’s band practices and attempting to understand music theory. He wants to learn how to play the trumpet, so Kevin tells him to learn how to read the notes first. The result is, as expected, Juyeon knocking over a sheet stand and nearly sitting on a trombone. 

The jazz concert is in mid-October, and Juyeon attends it as a member of the audience. Afterwards, he tells Kevin that his saxophone playing was probably great (since he still is unsure what good and bad are supposed to sound like). Although Juyeon gives him a bouquet of carnations for doing so well, Kevin admits that he’d made four mistakes in the final song, which leads Juyeon to take out four flowers from the bunch.

“You’ll get these back after you do it perfectly,” he says, as if he’s a disappointed parent rather than a supportive boyfriend. Kevin rolls his eyes but lets Juyeon hand the carnations to the other bandmates anyway. 

Halloween isn’t that exciting either. Dressed as a swashbuckling pirate, Kevin goes with some friends around the rich neighborhoods that give out king-sized candy bars. Chanhee doesn’t understand why parents refuse to give him candy, and Changmin has to explain to him that “the color black” isn’t a conventional costume in the slightest. Juyeon is babysitting his neighbor’s kids for the night, chaperoning the elementary schoolers as they terrorize the town for sweets, so he’s unable to join them, so Kevin texts him whenever Younghoon trips over his extra long devil’s tail. The following day, they all congregate in the cafeteria to exchange goodies. 

Time flies. The leaves turn brown and crisp. The degrees begin to dwindle lower and everything has pumpkin spice in it again. Kevin wears Juyeon’s basketball jacket when he forgets his own. Juyeon eats his fill of Kevin’s baked treats.

Jacob is good. He calls often, tells Kevin about his new friends that play basketball and the others that have Crunchyroll subscriptions. (Watching sports anime and actually playing those sports don’t happen often, Younghoon had explained, once.) He doesn’t tell Kevin about the cute boys in his class or the sweet girls at the gym. They’ve never talked about their love lives, and Jacob is the dictionary definition of a shy introvert, especially when it comes to romance. 

Despite all that, Kevin still wants to ask about Sangyeon. About what happened. About the feelings that were involved then, whether Kevin writing a letter means anything now. The forbidden name itches in his throat, and he just knows that Jacob isn’t over it. He catches his best friend skipping over words, tripping on his tongue, switching between _I_ and _us_ , _me_ and _we_. Jacob has a hard time letting go of the past, but that makes two of them. 

There are a dozen letters in a shoe box that remind Kevin it’s not just the past he’s clinging onto, as well.

——

As Kevin is mixing a batch of macadamia nut cookie dough, Juyeon loiters in the kitchen and periodically sneaks white chocolate chips into his mouth. They’d finished studying hours ago, so Kevin has moved onto baking for the basketball game tomorrow. (Juyeon is acting as his assistant, though he’s wholly responsible for the missing ingredients.) It’ll be the last game of this year, so in celebration he’s making a few different batches of dough. There’s even an oatmeal raisin one for Jamison, the only guy in the history ever who enjoys oatmeal raisin at a mere fourteen-years-old. 

Around eight, Kevin’s mom comes down the stairs and takes a chocolate chip cookie from the tray. She greets Juyeon, whom she’s met a few times already; when Juyeon is at the house studying, they usually run into her before she leaves for the night shift. 

She pinches Juyeon’s cheeks and coos, “Hello, handsome boy.”

“Hi, Mrs. Moon.” Juyeon smiles with his eyes. He asks, all of a sudden, “Can Kevin come to a party Friday night? The basketball team is celebrating the season. The Tigers had a good run.”

“You didn’t tell me about a party,” Kevin says, frowning. 

Juyeon retains his smile. “I just did.” Scoffing, Kevin flicks a chocolate chip in his direction. 

Kevin’s mom hums thoughtfully.

“I’m the captain so I’ve gotta go,” Juyeon goes on. “Have to do a motivational speech and all that, and then we’ll play games or karaoke.”

“That sounds fun,” Kevin’s mom says. “Doesn’t it, Hyungseo? You sing!”

Juyeon raises an eyebrow. “I haven’t heard you sing, _Hyungseo_.”

“I am not trained," Kevin declares, “and I have homework to do, so I _can’t_ go.” He glares at his mom, who just rolls her eyes.

“You _should_ go and have fun. All you do on the weekends is rewatch old Disney movies. That’s bad for your eyes.”

“ _Mom_.”

“I knew that already.” Juyeon offers a look of innocence as Kevin levels his glare to him. “What? There’s no point in lying.”

Kevin wants so badly to slap himself on the cheeks, knock some sense into himself, but he has cookie dough residue on his hands. He looks between his mom, who’s making that _face_ , and Juyeon, who has _the_ face. 

Well, this isn’t good for his heart.

He caves, sighing. 

“Just... Pick me up at seven, please.”

“Cool.” Juyeon grins. “I’ll have him home by ten, Mrs. Moon.”

She chuckles, swinging her bag over her shoulder. She waves a hand and says, “Eleven is fine, too. I know you’re responsible, so just worry about having a good time!” After kissing Kevin’s cheek, she tells them not to burn the house down and leaves.

When the door clicks shut, Kevin punches Juyeon’s arm. It leaves a sticky mark.

“Ow.” Juyeon wipes his arm, which most definitely does not hurt, from the way Kevin’s knuckles are throbbing in response to the taut muscles. 

“Care to tell me what _that_ was all about?”

“There’s a party,” Juyeon reiterates, and Kevin groans. “I mean, you _have_ to be there. It’s the whole basketball crew! Plus, it’d be real strange if my boyfriend didn’t come along.”

Kevin grimaces. “That’s not—”

“Ah, and I can finally introduce you to Jaehyun! He goes to a private school, so he only shows up in our area for big gatherings. You talked to him before Halloween, remember? Oh, and then Ramona, too! You’ll _love_ her. She’s Will’s girlfriend in college, and she’s studying to be an animator. Her sketches are—”

“Juyeon,” Kevin hisses, causing the other male to stop. “This sort of thing... wasn’t in our agreement."

Juyeon frowns. “Huh?”

Kevin wrings his hands. “Parties,” he proclaims. It’s bullshit. They’ve barely spoken about the contract since they made it, aside from the three-a-week kisses Juyeon likes keeping track of (though it feels like he’s been miscounting). Kevin just doesn’t feel right, being somewhere with a bunch of Juyeon’s friends as his boyfriend. The basketball games are a different story, but at a home party with friends and girlfriends and no obligations — it’s not the same. 

“But I—” Juyeon’s face twists, and then he slowly nods to himself. “You’ve got a point. You never agreed to this. And that means you shouldn’t have to go.” He rubs his neck. “Sorry, Moon. I was getting ahead of myself.”

The atmosphere turns chilly. Awkward. Juyeon takes a chocolate chip from the bowl and chews on it.

Kevin hates these brief moments they have, where they’re painfully reminded that none of this is authentic. This relationship of theirs had been synthesized in the lab for convenience, with crude end products and an unretainable yield. Juyeon isn’t obligated to rid the process of impurities, and the same goes for Kevin. 

Except, Kevin knows, he wants to make the reaction organic, natural, with complete purity in his beaker. God, he’s such a nerd.

Right now, he doesn’t have the capacity to tell Juyeon the truth. What he craves. He doesn’t have it in him to apologize for his behavior or give the real reason for his anxiety. 

Instead, he pats the flour off his apron and asks, “Who’ll be there?”

Juyeon blinks. “The team, their girlfriends, a few extra friends...” He must like Kevin’s expression because he adds, hopeful, “No more than thirty people, I swear. I can even invite Chanhee if you want.”

“No,” Kevin says, sighing, “I’ll just go with you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I wasn’t really expecting—” Juyeon stops. “Wait, you’ll go with me?”

“I could go with Mike. He’s a point guard and drives a Subaru.” 

Juyeon scoffs. “You didn’t even know what a point guard was ‘til yesterday.” He smiles, wry. “But... seriously? You’ll go? With me?”

Kevin sighs harder. “Yeah, yeah. You know, I don’t remember calling for an assistant that talked so much.” He pushes the dough towards Juyeon. “Here. The cookies won’t shape themselves.” 

“Yes, chef!”

Someone (read: Juyeon) drops half the tray of cooked oatmeal raisin cookies on the ground. They pretend it was on purpose and pack the remaining cookies into a smaller container. 

——

“Don’t be nervous,” Juyeon says, parking the car a block away from the house. 

Kevin lets out a laugh. “Nervous, who? Me? Nervous?” He unbuckles his seat belt and yelps as it pinches his finger. Juyeon snorts. “Not nervous! Not a chance.”

Because Kevin _isn’t_ , clearly. Just because this is his first high school party that doesn’t involve his extended family and/or members of youth group doesn’t mean he’s quaking in his Vans. He’s met Juyeon’s friends countless of times at the basketball games, so tonight shouldn’t be that hard to navigate. These just aren’t the types of people he’d imagine reaching out, striking up conversations, actively making an effort to include him. Kevin’s good at pretending, but when he’s left in a corner with no anchor, he gets clammy and tongue-tied and— 

Juyeon takes his hand. Kevin stares at him. Juyeon stares at Kevin’s hand.

“It’s sweaty.”

Kevin pushes him off the sidewalk. 

The party is at Lixuan’s house, whose parents are gone for the week visiting Beijing. All the houses in the area are the same model: standard townhouse with a garage, two floors, and a decent-sized backyard. There are a couple cars parked in the driveway, some of which Kevin recognize. (Mike’s jet black Subaru has a _student driver_ sticker on the back window; Juyeon points this out with disdain.)

They invite themselves inside, opening the front door and announcing their arrival. To his surprise, the atmosphere isn’t at all like what Kevin imagined. There’s music, but it’s playing off a Bluetooth speaker in another room and faint. There are people, but just a few milling here and there inside with most of them playing games in the backyard. It’s not overwhelming; Kevin relaxes at Juyeon’s side.

Kevin meets Ramona. She’s Hispanic, with tortoise-shell glasses, curly hair, and rainbow thigh-highs. Juyeon deposits him by her side in the family room as Will, five-foot-five small forward, physically scoops the basketball player up to who-knows-where. 

“Don’t mind my boyfriend. He likes to flex for no good reason.” When she smiles, her dimple shows. “So, you’re Kevin? I’ve heard a lot about you!”

“Good things?” prompts Kevin. 

“Many things.”

“Oh, boy.”

Ramona has a lot to say. Her opinions are strong, her stances firm. She hates olives, would die for Brie Larson, can’t understand why there are flat-earthers and people who believe climate change is a hoax. (Both her parents are environmental research scientists. Also, she wants to be alive for life on Mars.) Phrase after phrase, she rolls her _Rs_ before she rolls her eyes. Kevin likes her, and he likes her even better when she comes back with refreshments. 

“What the hell even _is_ kombucha?” she asks firstly as she passes Kevin the bottle.

“Healthy and delicious,” Kevin responds, smiling. “It’s fermented sweet tea.”

Ramona takes a sip of the drink, when Kevin offers it, and immediately gags. “This tastes like carbonated piss,” she declares, sticking out her tongue. 

“You’re enjoying a Miller Lite, hypocrite.”

“Touché. Well played.”

Eventually, she has to leave. She’s a freshman in university and has an online quiz due at midnight. When she realizes it, she screams “FUCK” and sprints to find her boyfriend. Ramona reappears with Will as well as another guy, holding onto Juyeon, who looks two seconds from falling over. Before the couple leaves, she adds Kevin on Snapchat and tells him not to be a stranger. 

Before Kevin can introduce himself to the new arrival, the guy unceremoniously and very literally drops Juyeon onto the couch. He rolls his shoulder and grunts, “Take care of him for a second, yeah? I need a drink.”

And then he leaves. 

Okay.

Kevin pats Juyeon on the back, more confused than flustered. “Hello? Earth to Lee? You good?”

Juyeon pulls back, smile cat-like, expression blissful. “Hey, h-handsome,” he stammers. His cheeks are pink, his eyes lidded. 

“What the heck is wrong with— Wait, are you _drunk_?” Kevin gapes, shocked. Juyeon doesn’t act this clingy when he’s sober, that’s for certain.

“No,” Juyeon says. He hiccups, and then burrows his head into the junction between Kevin’s neck and shoulder. “Sorry, it was an accident.”

Kevin makes a face. “How do you accidentally—” 

Juyeon’s arms effectively squeeze the rest of the sentence from him like Kevin’s the mouse for a boa constrictor’s dinner. He coughs, tries to wriggle free, but ends up with Juyeon half on his lap and mumbling nonsensically. 

The guy who had gifted him the drunken fool comes back with a Mountain Dew, lips twisted into a smirk. He has dark brown hair, elvish ears. It looks like he’s wearing a jacket for the tennis team, two rackets crossed over the heart, but Kevin doesn’t recognize the school colors. When he takes in the sight of Juyeon, draped over Kevin, his smirk seems to turn even more bemused. 

“Hey there, lover boy,” he starts, taking the spot beside Kevin. He sticks out his free hand. “I’m Jaehyun, i.e. this bastard’s best friend. I’m surprised I haven’t met you yet.” When he shakes Kevin's hand, he makes a long humming noise that is mildly off-putting.

“Stop with that. You’ll sully my boyfriend,” Juyeon accuses, hugging Kevin tighter. “I keep him away for his own safety.”

“That’s just rude,” Jaehyun says, though he doesn’t sound angry. He continues, in an overly showy fashion, “And to think, I was the one to save you from bullies in kindergarten. Little ol’ me, playing hero. Your savior.”

“ _You_ were the one who bullied me first, dickwad.”

“Ouch. And now the name-calling! You’ve no manners, Juyeon Lee. No manners.” Jaehyun glances at Kevin, leaning closer. “In front of your boyfriend, no less.”

Kevin absently rubs the top of Juyeon's head. “I don’t mind it. He seems a lot more... relaxed, now.”

“Well, he’s drunk off his ass.” After noticing Kevin's look of concern, Jaehyun beams. “Look, this is nothing new. Juyeon’s got a bad habit of getting pushed around. Someone asks for tutoring, he tutors. Someone wants to borrow his car, he lends it. 

“So, when someone tells him to drink, he’ll drink.” Jaehyun tuts his tongue and shakes his head. “Doesn’t help that he’s such a lightweight.”

Kevin drops his jaw. “And yet you didn’t stop him?” 

“Neither did you.”

“I didn’t know where he was,” Kevin defends, feeling Juyeon slip against his shoulder, “or what he was doing, for that matter.”

Jaehyun shrugs, sipping his pop. “But _you_ should’ve, clearly. Because you’re dating him. Isn’t that right?” 

Kevin purses his lips and adjusts the position of Juyeon’s head to fit more comfortably. “I’ll take better care of him.” 

“My boyfriend,” coos Juyeon. 

At that, Jaehyun openly grimaces. “Yes, sweetie, we know.” 

As they talk, Kevin learns that Jaehyun is... a character. They don’t argue with one another, per se, but they clash and bump heads in their opinions. Jaehyun can’t stand macarons, thinks Thanos was a decent guy, hates the smell of rain. He’s not as passionate as Ramona, but he has a pompous air about him that drives the conversation his way. He talks to Kevin like he’s better than him, and maybe he is, but they’ve only known one another for half an hour so Kevin can't make judgment. 

It’s really hard to see how this guy is Juyeon’s BFF. Compared to Juyeon, whose personality is mellow and malleable, Jaehyun seems like a rock stuck in the mud. He doesn’t budge when Kevin offers his own perspective, and it’s like he _wants_ Kevin to be mad. It’s annoying, to be honest.

But then, Kevin gets it. He sees the subtle things Jaehyun does for Juyeon: gives him a water bottle to hold onto, pinches the side of his leg to make sure he’s still conscious. He hears the stories Jaehyun tells: how they met in elementary school, how Jaehyun wouldn’t let Juyeon the Pushover get pushed over. He’s headstrong for his friends, guarded when he needs to be. Kind of a dick, but he has good intentions at heart.

So, Jaehyun is Juyeon’s push. Not necessarily in the right direction, but most definitely one needed to get to the next step. 

“I worry for my guy,” Jaehyun goes on. Juyeon has been asleep for the last ten minutes, as has Kevin’s arm. “He doesn’t think things through. He gets carried away easily. Also gullible. Please, stop me at any time.”

Kevin laughs. “I know what you mean.” He smiles. “That just makes him a little more charming, I think.”

“Cheeeeeesy.” Jaehyun pats Kevin, hard, on the arm. “But you're good for him! I approve.” He gets up, stretching his arm. “I'm off to dominate the bags tournament in the back. Make sure—” Jaehyun kicks Juyeon's leg with his foot, “—doesn’t pass out in the yard, okay?”

“I’ll try my best,” Kevin says, laughing unsurely. 

“And get him home safe.” Jaehyun downs the rest of his Mountain Dew and exhales loudly. He grins. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t puke on people he likes.”

“That’s... good to hear.” 

After Jaehyun is gone, Kevin tries and fails getting Juyeon to move both off the couch and off him. It’s like he’s a wad of week-old chewing gum stuck onto the heel of his shoe. Kevin watches as members of the basketball team stop and take pictures of the couple. After four of them come by, on separate occasions, Kevin demands a compensation fee. He doesn’t get one, but he stops Lixuan from drawing a dick on Juyeon’s face, which is a small win for his good karma jar.

“You drove here, you know,” Kevin tries, trying to get a reaction out of him. 

Juyeon gasps and widens his eyes. “Shit, I did.” He shifts, frowning. “Where did I park my car?”

Kevin snorts, “That’s not the point, doofus. You can’t drive under the influence.”

“You’re drinking,” Juyeon accuses, gesturing to the glass bottle in Kevin’s hand.

“This is kombucha, sir.”

“That has alcohol in it. From the whole fermentation process and stuff. With yeast.”

“Okay, yeah, so not enough to get me drunk.” 

“It _could_.”

“That’s like saying I’m gonna overdose on caffeine in my coffee.”

“ _Are_ you?”

“I am not—” Kevin sighs, shaking his head. “Why am I even arguing with you?”

“Because you love being right and having the last word.” Juyeon snuggles close to Kevin’s side, much like a lazy cat, and giggles.

“We should go,” Kevin insists. “It’s getting late, Juyeon.”

“But you haven’t sung yet.” Juyeon’s pout makes it even more obvious that he’s whining.

“That I have not,” Kevin confirms, just to be cheeky. 

Juyeon’s pout deepens. “Will you?”

“If I sing, can I drive your car home?”

“What? You can’t drive my car. You’ll hit a tree.”

Honestly, Kevin wants to be offended, but him hitting a tree sounds highly probable. Even so, he crosses his arms and says, “Then I won’t sing for you.”

The declaration causes Juyeon to go through stages: bewilderment, frustration, contemplation, and defeat. Kevin watches his expression change with amusement, and he sort of wishes he’d recorded the transitions. 

Finally, Juyeon hands Kevin the keys. 

After Kevin has sung two songs — one chosen by himself (“Teenage Dream” by Katy Perry) and the other by Juyeon (“Location” by Khalid) — Juyeon kisses him messily, more tongue and teeth than ever before. It’s all emotion and desire, hormones and whispers. Then it’s careful lips on lips, smile against blooming smile. Like no one’s watching, like they don’t need to pretend. 

It doesn’t occur to Kevin until after the fact, mingled breaths reeking of Korean liquor, that Jaehyun is in on their secret. 

——

Kevin drives five miles under the speed limit because one: he’s never driven anything larger than a compact car, and two: he values his and Juyeon’s lives very dearly. Also, there may be a pesky cop at the corner waiting for someone to run a stop sign, and the last thing he needs is a blue shirt taking them into custody for underage drinking (Juyeon) and being shit behind the wheel (Kevin).

Juyeon has been surprisingly complacent since they got into the car. He’s now slouched in the passenger’s seat, pushing the door lock button, drawing shapes on the window. After that kiss, Juyeon had attached himself to Kevin’s arm and they’d walked out in silence. Now, he’s been babbling random bursts of conversation that Kevin has more or less been humoring. 

“Moon,” Juyeon calls.

“Lee.”

“Moon.”

“Lee.”

“Kevin,” whispers Juyeon.

“Juyeon,” Kevin responds, tired. Just tired.

“Thank you.” The pink is still warming Juyeon’s cheeks. “For driving me home.”

Kevin glances over. “Actually, I’ve decided you’re sleeping over my house. I’m not about to walk home in the middle of the night from your house to mine. Or Uber. That screams potential murder.”

“Ah,” Juyeon says. “Okay.” He bumps his head against the window. “Thanks.”

“You would’ve done the same for me.”

“Yeah.” There’s a long pause. “Have you... ever wondered why I asked you to date me?” 

Kevin looks over at Juyeon, who has his knees drawn to his chest, gaze imploring but hazy. “Sometimes,” he says.

“Girls were always the ones who asked me. I never made the first move.” Juyeon sniffles. “That time— That day I wanted to have the choice. And for some reason, I wanted to— to choose you.”

Kevin can’t fight the blush Juyeon can’t see. 

“Before, when someone asked me out, I never said no. I couldn’t.” Juyeon juts out his lower lip. “I don’t like turning anyone down. I acc— accom— accommodate to them. So I say yes, and then we date.”

“Do you break up with them?” Kevin asks, tentative.

“They break up with me,” Juyeon murmurs, “because I’m not what they expect me to be.”

“What do they expect you to be?”

Juyeon breathes out. “Perfect.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Juyeon lays his cheek on the glass. “I guess it’s my image. Good at— at school, sports, dating. I’m Mr. Perfect. Apparently.”

Kevin scoffs, but immediately he realizes how that response might be construed and is quick to clarify. “You’re not,” he insists. “Of course you’re not! Anyone who thinks _anyone_ is perfect must be looking for an idealized version of life that can never be achieved. The hard work you’ve done to get where you are today should never be undermined or disregarded.”

“Hm.”

“You’re far from perfect, Juyeon. You always lose at rock-paper-scissors. You literally forget where your keys are even as you’re holding them. You actually _care_ about physics. You hold up the line at Chipotle, because you still _somehow_ don’t have a regular order memorized. You made me start writing—” 

As Kevin pulls up to the red light, perfectly timed, Juyeon snores. 

Kevin drops his forehead onto the steering wheel. “You’re too drunk for me to get deep, I see.” He peeks over, sees Juyeon, sound asleep, and exhales. “Maybe the kombucha was too much for me, too.”

The light turns green, so he steps off the brake.

——

Juyeon gets the floor. 

Well, Juyeon gets the bed and _Kevin_ gets the floor, but the latter wakes up to an excruciatingly hot embrace and drool on his shirt so, in the end, they both get the floor. 

Great.

Kevin extracts himself from Juyeon, who whines like a puppy losing its favorite chew toy. The movement gets him to rouse and stretch out his long limbs, blearily glancing around the room. 

“We’re on the ground,” observes Juyeon.

“That’s on you.”

Juyeon scratches his head, squinting. “My head hurts.”

“That’s on whoever made you drink.”

“Oh. Oh, damn. Sorry, Moon.” Juyeon purses his lips. “For everything. I was... really terrible last night.”

Kevin stands and offers Juyeon a hand. “Apology accepted. You were, in fact, terrible last night.” He glances at the clock and is surprised at how early it is. “Hey, you want breakfast?”

“I could eat,” Juyeon chuckles.

After brushing their teeth, they head down to the kitchen. There’s pancake mix in the pantry, so they work together to make the batter. It’s a little chaotic, with stray powder in the air and the loud clattering of tools, but they successfully cook enough pancakes to last them throughout the day. Juyeon cuts some fruits for extra sweetness; Kevin takes out the maple syrup and whipped cream. 

The first bite turns into two, and then they’re having seconds, fingers sticky and smiles wide. 

When Kevin’s mom enters the room, dressed in her scrubs for morning shift, she does not look happy. “Hyungseo,” she says, tone serious, “you’re not allowed to have people sleeping over without me knowing.” 

“It’s just Juyeon,” Kevin tries meekly, shrinking as she narrows her eyes. 

“I said what I said. Juyeon slept here because you came home _late._ Also, I know you drove his car; you put his keys where you normally put your own. You’re not allowed to do that either. That’s _dangerous_.”

Kevin nods, guilty. “I’m sorry, mom.” He elbows Juyeon in the ribs. 

“I— I’m sorry, too.”

“We’re both sorry,” Kevin stresses as pitifully as he can muster.

“You’re grounded,” she declares, stern. She shifts her glare to Juyeon. “You’re not my son, but you’re also grounded. Give me your mom’s contact information and I’ll talk to her during my break later.”

After everything is settled, the room is quiet and the mood is tense.

Juyeon idly taps his fork against the plate. “Can I... finish... the pancakes...?” 

Kevin rakes his hand through his hair and groans. “Don’t push it, man.”

They get to finish the pancakes, but Kevin’s mom takes away the whipped cream. Which, yeah. That’s fair.


	8. kimchi

Kevin is in a moral pickle. A crunchy conundrum, if you will. 

After the party, he tries to convince himself that he’s not doing anything wrong in his fake dating lifestyle. Although he’s more than certain the feelings he has for Juyeon aren’t exactly platonic, that doesn’t equate to him doing something necessarily bad... right? It just means he's an idiot, falling for a fantasy. 

Dumbass decisions by the heart are a product of human nature, and Kevin is a _Homo sapien_ last he checked. 

Juyeon doesn’t need to know. This is strictly a business relationship, mutually beneficial to both parties. Juyeon hadn’t asked Kevin to fall for him when he’d propositioned a fake relationship; that wasn't part of the plan. This has always been about the convenience of deceit — an excuse. 

Somewhere between rules six and seven, the invisible ink must read: _Don’t make it real_. Making it real means Kevin can get hurt, can lose Juyeon forever, can put forth an infinitesimal amount of possibilities of probabilities that can go wrong. 

Kevin has always been a perfectionist. You learn to live with the sacrifices, to make things right. 

——

Thanksgiving break gives Kevin a few days to think for himself, about himself, by himself. Chanhee, Changmin, and Younghoon all get the flu and quarantine themselves together in Changmin’s basement. Jacob comes back from college for about 0.03 seconds; he stops by home and then hops onto a plane with his parents to Boston, where his brother lives, so Kevin misses him in the transition. Juyeon drives with his family to Denver to go snowboarding and watch the Nuggets play; the signal is spotty all over the state so he promises to send messages over borrowed wi-fi. 

So, Kevin, home alone. Sort of. 

His sister comes home for the weekend, so they get to celebrate Thanksgiving as a whole family. She’s in charge of baking the turkey while Kevin is responsible for everything sweet. Their mom makes a few traditional Korean dishes; she also invites some of her friends to the house, meaning their kids tag along, too. The Moon siblings become the babysitters of the night, getting a chance to catch up, as the Korean women gossip. 

Kevin talks about how school is going, which is mostly abridged for him to save face, and his sister talks to him about work. She’s a graphic designer, providing visually appealing advertisements for events in the area. There’s someone she’s seeing now, whom she met on the job, but she’s keeping it on the down low. She likes him a lot, shares a lot of the same interests, and clicks pretty well. Going serious with it isn’t something she’s planning on anytime soon, but—

“Life works in mysterious ways,” she tells Kevin, sighing. A baby crawls into her lap, and she kisses the top of his head. “Maybe you’ll meet him one day. Maybe you won’t. Life pulls you in all directions, so you can’t prepare for everything.”

“You can try,” Kevin counters. “Preparing makes you... prepared. There’s nothing wrong with expecting.” 

“That’s no fun. Where’s the spice of _unexpectedness_? Don’t you want to have someone to surprise you? To scare you? To excite you?”

“I...” Kevin feels tiny hands reach behind him, trying to braid his hair. “I don’t know.” 

His sister looks at him, smiles warmly, and hands the kid playing hairdresser a green hair tie. 

Kevin doesn’t tell her anything is wrong, but he has the feeling she knows. That must be a sister’s instinct, woman’s intuition. When he and their mom are dropping her off at the airport, she tells him, “Don’t overthink it, little brother. If you spend too much time trying to figure out how you like your eggs, they’ll burn before you get to taste them.”

After she’s left, Kevin makes himself sunny side-up eggs for dinner. The yolks are too runny, the yellow too raw, so he decides to try again later. Not now. Later. 

He can always make better eggs later.

——

Once the short break is over, things are expected to return to routine for Kevin. Class is back in session, the days left until the end of the semester are numbered, and he’s a pro at hiding his emotions, which means being a good fake boyfriend for all eight hours of the school day. 

Monday morning: Kevin eats a bowl of cereal, locks the front door, and heads to the driveway. He sees Juyeon’s parked there, the senior leaning against the hood with two venti cold brews next to him. 

That is not quite routine.

“What are you doing?”

Juyeon hands him the coffee. “Picking you up, like usual,” he says. “Drinking coffee to stay alive.”

Kevin sips from the straw, narrowing his eyes. “I meant outside the car.” 

“Change of pace.” Juyeon shrugs. “Jung isn’t here today. Had to drop him off early for some marching band thing.”

“Wait, he’s in marching band? Evil little Jung?”

Chuckling, Juyeon goes into the car with Kevin following suit. “Going to be. Next year, when he’s a sophomore. I think he's doing some pre-orientation assembly.” He backs out of the driveway. “Weren’t you in it, Mr. Sax?”

“Yeah, well, that was...” Kevin exhales. He debates whether to mention Lauren, the girl who squashed his heart, but decides against it, for now. “That was a whole can of worms. I like to ignore the details of all that. Marching band was rough.”

“Maybe you could give him advice. Survival tips. You can come over dinner some time, meet my mom, lecture Jung—”

“You want me to meet your parents?” Kevin interjects, unable to hide his surprise. 

“If anything, only my mom,” Juyeon says. “My dad... left a few years ago, so he's not in the picture.”

Kevin flinches. “I’m so sorry, I—” He bites his lip. “I’m sorry, Juyeon. I didn’t know.”

Juyeon shrugs. “Not your fault. You couldn’t’ve. I don’t exactly advertise it.” He puts on a grin. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Moon."

“Okay. Back on topic.” Kevin twists his lips. “Title pending: dinner at the Lees?”

“It’d just be a plain dinner with my mom and brother. After all the times you’ve fed the team, I wanna treat you. _And_...” Juyeon drums his hands on the steering wheel. “I’m officially ungrounded now! Celebration noise!”

Hiding a snort, Kevin rolls his eyes. Since before the break they haven’t been hanging out as often on account of Juyeon being grounded, with strict curfew and no weekend hangouts. It sounds kind of funny when Juyeon announces his freedom so grandly like that. 

“I wouldn’t be impartial to McDonald’s,” Kevin says, completely serious. 

Juyeon makes a face. “McDonald’s? Where’s the authenticity in that? I’ll cook.” 

“ _You_ cook?” Kevin has seen the guy mistake teaspoons for tablespoons on more than one occasion, so you can’t really blame him for his distrust. 

“You’re doubting me, huh?” Juyeon rubs his nose, haughty. “I’ll have you know I make a mean _pajeon_. Grandma’s recipe, straight from the heartlands of Gyeonggi-do.” 

“Really? _Really?_ ” Kevin sits back, crossing his arms challengingly. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Expectant, Juyeon asks, “So you’ll go?”

Kevin smiles, readies himself to reply. He feels a brief wave of hesitation, of caution, of guilt, but then it fades. Fades into the background. Out of frame. Under the rug. 

He’s not doing anything wrong. Juyeon is his friend. Kevin isn’t doing anything wrong, seriously.

“I’d love to.” 

——

The dinner is planned for Thursday night; Kevin has an event at church during the weekend and Juyeon doesn’t have to worry about basketball games anymore, so the timing is good. Jung is determinedly against the idea, but that’s because he’s snarky and still hasn’t warmed up to Kevin yet. (On the contrary, Kevin is almost entirely certain his sister would fall in love with Juyeon the second he breathes.)

After school, the Lee brothers and Kevin get into the minivan for the ride home. Kevin fully expects to end the drive at Juyeon’s house but is struck with confusion when they end up in front of his own house instead. 

“Shouldn’t we be at _your_ house?”

“Not yet, Moon,” Juyeon says. “I’ve gotta maintain the element of surprise.”

“We don’t have food in our fridge,” adds Jung, and Juyeon hurriedly shushes him.

Kevin laughs. “So you have some grocery shopping to do and ingredients to mix up. I’ll stay out of your hair for a few hours, then.”

“Yeah, I— Wait. No, no, no.” Juyeon narrows his eyes. “Dinner is gonna be awesome. For real. Scout’s honor. No, _Captain’s_ honor.” He smiles. “Can you drive to our place at six?”

“Send me the address, and I’ll try my best.”

“Don’t crash,” Jung tells him. 

“I hate you, devil child.”

Being able to drive to Juyeon’s house for dinner makes the preparation on Kevin’s side all the more worrisome. Does he change into nicer clothes? Does he bring a gift? Does he come early to bother Juyeon at the stove? What’s the protocol for visiting a fake-boyfriend’s house and meeting his mom for the first time? 

Kevin goes to Chanhee for advice.

 **🐍chanhee🐍 (15:21)** **  
** don’t bother me i’m on a date

Kevin does not receive advice from Chanhee.

Ultimately, Kevin decides to keep it casual. He changes into a less wrinkly t-shirt, covered by a jacket, but keeps his jeans. He grabs a couple mangoes from the kitchen and cuts them into slices, storing them in a tupperware. He leaves the house fifteen minutes before six and gets to Juyeon’s place on the dot. 

Jung answers the door, and then groans. 

“Hey, I brought you mangoes. Don’t be like that.”

“I’m allergic,” says Jung, deadpan.

“No, you’re not,” comes a soft yet firm voice from behind him. It belongs to a woman, as tall as Jung, with hair tied back and glasses perched on her nose. She smiles at Kevin, and he’s reminded of his own mother. “You must be Kevin.”

“Yes, that’s the name,” he says, smiling. “Hello, Ms. Lee. It’s nice to finally meet you.” He holds out the tupperware. “I didn’t want to come empty-handed, so I thought fruit was a good idea.” 

She takes it from him and does a small little gasp. “Thank you! Mangoes are my favorite.” She takes his arm and pulls. “Come inside, please. Juyeon is almost done cooking.”

The Lee House has a more modern interior than Kevin’s home, but the layout is essentially identical. Two stories, wide hallways. Four chairs at the dining room table, a cabinet full of fine china. A TV in the living room, a storage closet by the bathroom sink. There’s an island in the kitchen, and Juyeon has flour in his hair. 

As Ms. Lee puts away the mangoes in the fridge, Kevin brushes the white from Juyeon’s bangs. “Isn’t this stuff supposed to go _in_ the batter?” he teases. 

“It did,” Juyeon declares proudly. His _pajeon_ are plated, flecks of green onions amongst the crisp batter. “Wait until you try them, Moon. I did such a good job.”

“Looks like it.” Kevin stares at Juyeon, gets the urge to kiss that smug smile from his face. He turns his head and coughs. “Do you need help setting the table?”

Juyeon cracks a bigger smile. “That’s what little brothers are for.” 

Jung sets the table, and Kevin brings over the dishes. Along with Juyeon’s _pajeon_ and spicy rice cakes, Ms. Lee has made stir fried noodles, braised short ribs, steamed bok choy, and baked zucchini. And white rice, too, with a side of radish kimchi. The ratio of what Juyeon made to what his mom made is pretty skewed; Kevin points this out and gets Juyeon to grumble. 

Kevin sits across from Juyeon; Ms. Lee and Jung sit on opposite ends. Ms. Lee serves them their rice and then they eat the main dishes family style. It’s good, ridiculously good, so Kevin nudges Juyeon’s foot under the table and sends him a wink. 

 _Told you so_ , mouths Juyeon as he bites into a rice cake.

Ms. Lee puts a large piece of short ribs onto Kevin’s plate. “You’re the same age as Juyeon, right? A senior?” Kevin nods and attempts (unsuccessfully) to stop her from giving him another protein. “What do you do for fun?”

“I watch movies, help out the church, listen to music,” Kevin answers. “I also draw a little, and do calligraphy.”

Juyeon’s mother gasps. “Calligraphy? That’s so different! And interesting! What do you write?”

“I help the church do letterings sometimes, for posters and whatnot. Normally I like writing out song lyrics. Just a few lines on a page. Poems, too.”

After Kevin shows her some of his works saved on his phone, she urges him to sell her a few. “You’re a real artist,” she says, in awe. “Is that what you’re planning on doing in college? Fine arts?”

“No, actually. I’m aiming for either chemistry or biology. Haven’t exactly decided which just yet, but I want to stay in the sciences. Most likely research.”

“Juyeon is going to try engineering. I don’t really get it, but he likes that sort of thing. He’s always been good with his hands.” She looks towards her eldest son. “And you’ll do basketball, too, right?”

“Right,” Juyeon says. “I’m competitive so I have to try out for the team. Collegiate game is so much cooler than high school.”

“There’s gonna be lots of guys with the same mindset,” Kevin warns. “You better come prepared.”

“I’ve got a killer arm.”

“And a shaky free-throw, too, or so I’ve heard.”

“You’re not allowed to talk to Will or Ramona ever again, Moon.”

“I feel so neglected,” quips Jung, slumping. 

Juyeon snorts. “What do you plan on doing in college, li’l bro?”

“Meet smart girls,” Jung replies. Kevin chokes on his rice, and Juyeon’s mother mutters something in Korean under her breath. “What? I’m not in the wrong! That’s a valid answer!”

Ms. Lee takes out the mangoes and makes Jung eat all of them. Juyeon and Kevin don’t complain.

——

Dinner finishes, so Kevin offers to help Juyeon clean. Jung has to study for a biology test, which is a reasonable excuse; Ms. Lee gets a call and has to log-in on her work laptop. Kevin’s help is gratefully accepted by the eldest Lee son. 

The two work in an assembly line-like fashion: Juyeon washes the dishes; Kevin puts them on the drying rack. Side-by-side, they pass along plates and make idle chit-chat. 

“Your mom is a sweetheart.”

Juyeon grins. “She’s strong,” he proclaims. He puts a plate on the drying rack. “My dad, after he left, he... Well, long story short, he’s got another family now. It was hard on her— on us, honestly, but especially on her. But she works hard for the family. Our family.”

“Oh.” Kevin peeks at Juyeon as he gets past a bowl. “Are you... Do you know them?”

“Yeah, but not really. We’re technically blood-related, but... It’s not like he has joint custody of me and Jung. He left us so he doesn’t have the right to care for us like mom does, but sometimes we see a letter saying _hey_. I’ve seen our half-siblings a couple times. If he’s really adventurous, dad’ll take me and Jung out to dinner.”

“That’s nice,” Kevin says. “It’s nice that you can still see him.” He smiles, heart a little heavy.

A plate clatters in the sink, but Juyeon barely pays any attention to it as he stammers, “Shit, Kevin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to— I totally forgot about...” He looks down. “Sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

Kevin smiles. He knows Juyeon is trying his best to consider his feelings. That’s just who he is, and that’s just how they are together.

“It’s fine,” Kevin reassures. He bumps Juyeon’s hip with his own. “I don’t exactly advertise my dead dad.”

“That... sounds familiar. Oh, wait. I said it.” A second too late, a beat too loud, Juyeon laughs. Kevin laughs, too. “What was your dad like? Was he a nurse like your mom?”

“Believe it or not, he was actually a painter. They were neighbors growing up, back in Gwangju, and met when they immigrated here.”

“Really?” Juyeon puts the last dish on the drying rack and leans against the countertop. “Please, Moon, tell me more. I’m intrigued.”

Juyeon listens to Kevin tell all the stories that he remembers of his father, the ones he’s heard from his mother or has flitting memories of. Kevin tells them with a soft smile, and unwittingly wonders why the hell he’d let himself get so involved with a temporary relationship. 

——

When Kevin returns home, he sees a figure sitting on the front porch. His first instinct is to dial the police, because the sun is down and strangers in the night do not bode well with his flight-or-fight response. As he approaches, steps cautious, phone in hand, his fear slowly melds into relief — and then unmistakable dread. 

“Hey, Kevin.”

Kevin doesn’t know what kind of greeting he should give — _hello_ is too formal, and _hi_ much too friendly — so all that comes out is a whisper. 

“Sangyeon.” 

“Your mom said I could wait out here,” says Sangyeon. “Can we talk?” He gestures to the spot beside him.

With no other option, Kevin sits. 

It hasn’t rained in weeks, but the lingering awkwardness is thick enough to resemble the humid morning after a storm. Neither of them knows where to start, clearly. They have an undefined dynamic, where they can no longer call one another friends comfortably but they haven’t quite reverted back to acquaintances. 

Sangyeon tries to clear the air.

“It’s been a while,” he says.

“Yeah.”

“You’re dating Juyeon.”

Kevin looks down at his hands. “Yeah.”

“Did he get a love letter, too?”

Swallowing, Kevin nods. He can’t lie to get out of this. Not anymore. Not when the evidence is in print. 

“Kevin, do you love me?” asks Sangyeon. 

Simple. To the point.

“I don’t,” Kevin answers. An epiphany-like inquiry: “Do you love Jacob?”

Sangyeon smiles. It’s melancholy, and yet somehow he doesn’t look bothered. “I do,” he declares.

Huh.

“This conversation is going a lot differently than I had imagined.” What Kevin had imagined, though, involved more confusion and irritation that he’s never thought Sangyeon capable of in the first place. It didn’t even make sense. 

Sangyeon shrugs. “I didn’t know what to expect either. I wanted to talk to you, but without Jacob... I guess I didn’t know how to approach you, especially with—” He takes the letter out of his pocket, “—this.”

When the letter returns to Kevin’s hands, it’s almost like the achievement at the end of a quest. It’s almost like an accomplishment. He’d started dating Juyeon because of this, and now that he has the letter in his possession once more, the game should be over. The credits should start to roll. He’d been so thoughtless to think that adventures could be so easy to complete.

Kevin doesn’t want any of it to end.

“Can you tell me why you broke up?” he asks, because he doesn’t want to think of his own problems. He wants answers to Jacob’s problem that he doesn’t know he even has. “I just wanna make sense of it, because he— I know he loved you. I don’t have a clue why he would want to end your relationship.”

“He always thought of me,” Sangyeon begins. “Jacob said that he didn’t want me to stress long-distance. He wanted me to have options, to find someone close.” He sighs. “He thought that that was something I wanted.”

“You... didn’t wanna break up?” Kevin says, puzzled.

“I care about Jacob,” Sangyeon declares, with such conviction and sureness that Kevin’s heart beats for him, too. “I think he still loves me. I really hope so. I only want him to know that that’s something _he_ wants.”

“Have you told him? Have you talked to him?” _Does he know that you still love him?_

“Time apart is what we both need. We both have things to figure out by ourselves.” Sangyeon looks towards the stars. “I’ll see him when he comes home for the break. Whatever happens, happens.”

“You’re brave,” Kevin blurts. He wants that mindset, that nonchalance. That faith in the unknown, where hope is inevitable. 

“You too,” Sangyeon counters, elbowing Kevin’s side. “The letter you wrote was no joke, Kevin. It takes guts. I would’ve never known you felt that way about me.”

“You were never meant to,” mutters Kevin. 

“What was that?” 

“N-Nothing,” Kevin stutters. He’s not quite sure if he can go through the whole story without breaking down tonight. “I’m sorry I avoided you, Sangyeon. You didn’t deserve that. You’re my friend. I like hanging out with you.”

“Thank you,” Sangyeon says, chuckling. 

“Everything in that letter is old news, so you don’t have to worry. I’m not professing my love to you any time soon.”

“Yeah, because you’re real happy with your sporty guy.”

Kevin blushes. This is a rare moment when he’s allowed and able to tell the truth. The truth masked as a lie masked as the truth. “I am,” he admits. 

“Do you love Juyeon?” 

“Do I _what._ ”

Sangyeon laughs. “Never mind. I may be overstepping a bit now, which is my cue to go.” He stands, holding out a hand to shake. “This was nice.”

“Yeah, it was.” Kevin waves. “See you around.” And he watches the college freshman leave, not exactly out of his life, but miles away from his heart, for sure. 

Because, maybe, he already knows the answer to Sangyeon’s question.

——

Insomnia is a bitch. It gets to Kevin on cold nights like these, where the window lets in a draft and two blankets are never enough. The bed feels too soft. His skin is too cold. The way his mind is racing and running only adds to the sleeplessness.

He stares at his phone. Scrolls through Twitter. Checks his Instagram feed. Opens his texts. Sees the latest message. 

 **lovely ju (20:54)** **  
** Hope you got home okay!

That was hours ago, but Kevin hasn’t responded. After talking to Sangyeon, he hasn’t been thinking clearly and must’ve forgotten. If he sent a text now, would Juyeon see it? Would he respond? Would he call Kevin out on his bullshit? Would he—

Kevin’s finger slips. The line is ringing. Shit. He hadn’t meant to press the button. He doesn’t want to bother, doesn’t want to _be_ a bother. He doesn’t think Juyeon would—

The line connects. Kevin makes a noise of distress.

“ _Did you have a bad dream?_ ”

Kevin pauses. Laughs. Falls back on the bed. “I’m not five,” he says. 

“ _You called me._ ” Juyeon’s tone is curious, questioning.

“Hello to you, too.” 

“ _What’s wrong?_ ”

Kevin holds the phone closer to his face. Curls in on himself. “Why does something have to be wrong for me to call you?”

“ _It’s past midnight, for one. Did I give you food poisoning? Are you sick again?_ ”

With a light chuckle, Kevin shakes his head. “I’m not. Your spicy rice cakes were, undoubtedly, the best I’ve ever had.” 

“ _Not too spicy?_ ”

“Could’ve been spicier.”

The conversation doesn’t continue beyond that, but neither of them drops the call. Kevin’s heart is pounding, but Juyeon’s steady breath keeps him calm. He’s not tired, but he’s relaxed. He’s quiet.

“ _Kevin, look out your window._ ”

The clouds are shielding the moon. Particles of white are beginning to fall from the sky. Flakes hit the pane of the glass. 

“ _Happy first snow._ ”

Kevin has always been a fall kind of guy, but he doesn’t tell Juyeon that. 

“Goodnight,” he says instead, waits for Juyeon to say the same, and then ends the call. 

It takes another hour for him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new goal: finish this fic by the end of the year (_ _)v


	9. confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in honor of the trailer release for p.s. i love you (i.e. tatbilb sequel), i present to u: This, and istg i will finish the last chapter very soon!!!! enjoy this for now!!!!!!

Thursday afternoon, a week before Kevin’s finals, Jacob Bae shows up at the front door, a glittery gift bag around his wrist. “Hi, best friend!” he greets, grinning guilelessly with his arms open wide, readying for a hug. “How’s it been?”

Kevin bursts into tears.

Jacob, understandably, is flustered, smile plummeting like an anvil off the rood. “Are you— Kev, why are you crying? What’s wrong? Is it me? I— I got you a thermos.” He sets his hands on Kevin’s shoulders, trying to meet his eyes. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

The thing is, Kevin had prepared himself for this — _The Grand Return._ He had circled the date Jacob was coming back to town in thick, red marker on his calendar. He wrote down notes for what to say and where to steer the conversation. He practiced his facial expressions in the mirror to make sure nothing would be amiss once he finally saw his best friend face-to-face, in the flesh. He had been prepared to act normal, be normal, and stay normal. 

And that plan went to shit, because Kevin is a big wimp and Jacob got him a present. Incredible. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he blubbers, furiously shaking his head. “I can’t— I can’t keep _lying—_ ”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Jacob urges. Kevin chokes back a sob. “Wait, put a pin in that. First, I’m making you tea.”

Jacob makes green tea and pours it into Kevin’s new, discounted thermos from Target. He waits for it to cool, warms his hands around the surface. Kevin is still tearing up as he drinks it, not knowing where to start. Jacob tries to comfort him as best as he can, but he comes to the conclusion that his best friend needs a nudge to get the ball rolling. 

Per Jacob's insistence, Kevin calls Chanhee for help. Chanhee Choi enjoys the metaphorical tea more than Kevin enjoys the literal tea, so he's certain he'll come by and help him explain the situation. Chanhee, though initially passive to the idea of Kevin and Juyeon fake-dating, became the only person who could understand a shred of what Kevin was — and is — going through. While his nose was never entirely in Kevin's business, he often gave pieces of wisdom and reassurance that helped Kevin get by. He may not look it, but Chanhee is dependable. 

Most of the time. 

" _What? Hello? Why the hell are y— Holy shit, be quiet!_ "

"I didn't say anything yet." There's a yelp on the other end, followed by a laugh.

" _Not you._ " Chanhee sighs loudly. " _Kevin Moon, why are you calling me? This isn't Gen Z culture. I hate talking on the phone._ "

"I wanted to... Uh, are you busy?" Kevin asks, tentative. Jacob pokes him to elaborate. "I— I need help."

Someone gasps in the background. Then, there's what sounds like a body part getting hit with an oddly enthusiastic _ow_ following. Kevin doesn't have the capacity to think too deeply into it. 

" _Do you need me to hold your hand?_ " 

Kevin sniffles. "Maybe. Jacob is here. I reacted a lot more violently than expected at his arrival, so I'm... coming clean. Completely."

There's a long pause, which is probably Chanhee judging Kevin's life choices. " _Okay, loser. You need an emotional support boy. I'll drive over as soon as I can. You have to wait until I get— Hey._ Hey. _HEY! Yes, you! Don't pretend you can't hear me! Take that out of your mouth! THAT WAS THE LAST FU—_ "

The line cuts off. Kevin stares at his phone.  

"Was that... normal?" asks Jacob. 

Kevin shrugs. "Honestly, I can't say. Chanhee hangs out with Younghoon and Changmin now, so their brand of weird is rubbing off on him." He grips his thermos tighter. "Now we wait."

The blond friend arrives, as promised, as soon as he can — which happens to be fifteen minutes later, with a leaf in his hair and dirt on his knee, a wrinkled shirt and mismatched socks. Kevin and Jacob are eating from a bowl of popcorn after starting up _Meet the Robinsons_ on Netflix. They stare at Chanhee, face flushed, while he gets his bearings.

“Don’t— Don’t say a word,” he warns, aggressively patting himself down. 

"I won't," Jacob says as Kevin jeers weakly, "You fall down a hill, Jill?" 

"Moon, do not tempt me. You have all your shit to talk about now, so do _not_ go ragging on me." Chanhee sits himself down between his friends and grabs a fistful of popcorn. "So? Let's start the show. You can do it, Kevin."

It takes another five minutes of heckling and threats against his stand mixer for Kevin to follow through. He begins with what started everything: the letters. How they got out: by his ever-loving mother with good intentions. Explains why he wrote them: the circumstances and mindset. Who he wrote them for: the boys and girls. When it all happened: years ago or mere months. One, two, three, four, five. Juyeon, Changmin—

Chanhee scrunches his nose. “Wait, you actually sent a letter to _that_ grapefruit head? You didn’t tell me that. And when he was in _middle school_? Seriously?” 

“Grapefruit...?” says Jacob.

“He has orange hair now. It’s a _whole_ thing that I cannot fathom right now. I hate it. Kevin, keep talking.”

Kevin asks, somewhat facetiously, “Didn’t you go on a date with him?”

“Fuck you.”

—Lauren, Sangyeon, Daisy. Kevin tells them about his unconventional method of getting past heartbreak. He tells them about the five recipients, who may or may not have received their letters. 

While explaining, it dawns on Kevin that he’d never really gone into the entire letter process with anyone but Juyeon. Chanhee has only heard bits and pieces, as have Sangyeon and Changmin. When Kevin tells Jacob about Sangyeon — about the letter only, because their conversation on the porch is not his secret to tell — he can’t keep his voice from shaking. During that time, Chanhee takes the hint and cools it with his snippy interjections, distracting himself with a hunt for snacks.

Overall, the breakdown is messy, raw, kind of gross because Kevin starts bawling three-quarters of the way through. When he stops, he wipes at his tear-stricken face and just... breathes.

“I get it, okay, if— if you hate me for being a dumbass. We all know I am."

“Don't say that. You should never put yourself down. You're _the_ best, and also _my_ best friend. How could I ever hate you?” 

Jacob is an angel Kevin Moon does not deserve. He even gets up and grabs a tissue box for Kevin, because he is an _angel._

“There are a lot of ways,” grumbles Kevin, blowing his nose. 

“Running over your dog is one,” Chanhee quips from the kitchen. He returns with a bowl of sliced fruit and plops back in his spot. “I’m not saying Kevin would ever intentionally do such a thing, but a counterexample was necessary. Also, forgot to mention: I’ve missed you dearly, Jacob Bae. Mwah.” 

Jacob grins. “Missed you, too. Try to avoid that gloomy while Kevin’s crying, okay?”

“Won’t make any promises. Might even think of more. Did you know that out of the 195 countries only 28 of them have legalized same-sex marriage? And none of them include Asian countries, despite support from—” 

“Chanhee, please stop.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

Jacob turns to Kevin and exhales. “Listen, Kev. Whatever feelings you had in the past are in the _past._ Now, however you choose to express them is your choice. You can be with whoever you want to be with. You can give your heart away. I’m... I’m not with Sangyeon anymore, so if you want to date him—” 

The sound of Chanhee choking on a strawberry interrupts the monologue. Kevin buries his face in his hands as Jacob rushes to Chanhee’s side. 

“Are you okay?” asks Jacob, concerned. “Do you need water?”

Chanhee shakes his head, reaching blindly into the bowl for a grape. “Kevin,” he wheezes. “Kevin, you’ve gotta tell him. _Kevin._ You _must._ ”

Jacob blinks. “Tell me... what? There’s more?”

“Yes. There is. Another thing. That I. Failed to mention.” Kevin peeks through the gaps of his fingers. “Remember Juyeon?”

“Basketball teammate, blue letter. Good guy.”

Kevin drums his fingers against his knee. “Well, I’ve been, um, well...” He cowers when Chanhee aims a glare (and cantaloupe slice) at him, rushing to get the words out, “I’m fake-dating him.”

Of course, another long-winded explanation must follow, which is somehow even _more_ nerve wracking to talk about. The main points: a pretend boyfriend, a wide-ruled paper contract, guidelines for dating, growing intimacy, unanticipated feelings. Really, _really_ unanticipated feelings, where Kevin has lost his sense of what’s real and what’s imaginative, what Juyeon wants and what he wants. 

It’s just. Confusing.

Jacob's response comes after ten painful seconds of silence. “You really dug yourself a hole with this one, huh.” 

Kevin flings himself face-first onto the couch, groaning loudly. “I KNOW. I SUCK.”

“You have a crush on your boyfriend,” Chanhee drawls. He shakes his head. “I sound like an idiot saying that, but that is _literally_ what goes on. Your world is so messed up, Kevin. So warped.”

“Why don’t you just... tell him?” asks Jacob.

Voice muffled by the couch cushion, Kevin grumbles, “Don’t wanna.”

Chanhee scoffs, “What are you, like, four? What kind of logic is that?” 

“Bite me.” 

“Not into bloodplay.” Kevin throws a pillow at him, and Chanhee barks, “ _Toddler._ ”

“Do you want advice?” Jacob asks carefully. “Real advice, Kev?”

Kevin takes a moment to think. “Actually, I... don't. I just wanted to tell you the truth. Say everything. Get it all off my chest. To be honest, I didn’t really expect input on my problems. This just. Happened. I guess.”

“No input? Why am I even here?” huffs Chanhee.

Jacob pouts. “I thought you wanted to see me.”

“Oh, right.” Chanhee hums. “The secondary objective was to hear Kevin lose his mind talking about Juyeon for several hours. I was disappointed, but I think that’s all right.”

“If you ever want to get advice, we’ll be here for you.” Jacob gingerly puts a hand on Kevin’s thigh. 

Chanhee passes him a strawberry slice, too. “We’re here to be your friends, okay?”

“Okay.” Kevin musters a smile. “Can we talk about your college life, Jake? I’m about to stress-bake a cake and I’d love to hear all about it.”

“Oh! Where should I start?”

“Shitty professors. Shitty classmates. Exploitation of the millennial student worker.” Chanhee trails after Kevin to the kitchen. “Ooh, dibs on licking the spoon!” 

“Ew, salmonella,” Kevin says. 

“That is a debunked accusation. Improperly cleaned shells are the more likely cause of harmful bacteria for grocery store eggs,” Chanhee proclaims, deathly serious. “So shut your mouth, Kevin. I am _licking_ the _spoon_.”

Jacob turns pink. “Please don’t say it like that.” 

“ _Spoon_ ,” Kevin and Chanhee chorus. Jacob, sighing fondly, rolls his eyes.

——

During the week of finals, Kevin survives solely off Khan Academy and Starbucks. He studies like his life depends on it; he just wants to end the semester on a positive note. His grades are precarious for nearly all his classes, on the borderline between letters. Because of his dedication to not failing, he isn’t very active around his friends or family or the internet. He’s a little out of touch with the world, but he makes it through. 

He’s making it through.

The last final is for AP Physics, and Juyeon gives him a _good luck_ kiss before Mr. Watson passes out the tests. 

No one turns their head to watch. No one notices Kevin check if they did. 

Kevin takes the test. 

Once it's over, it's over. 

With finals out of the way, classes officially albeit temporarily out of session, the students go crazy. It’s not summer fever but winter wilds, where the two weeks of winter break are the much needed recess of time. Someone is giving out Dum-Dums and bags of Skittles for a nickel each. Another kid is rollerblading down the hall. Outside his classroom Mr. Baker (punfortunately not in the home ec department) is holding a boombox on his shoulder and playing “Bye Bye Bye” by N’Sync. 

The security guards are very lenient around this time of year, so they let students get away with behavior that would earn them detentions in early August. No one wants to have detention over the break, nor does any teacher vie for the chance to oversee problem children. So long as no laws are broken, the line marking misbehavior is a faraway shot. Although, it does seem like that the line is being trapezed as a gaggle of security personal chase down a kid wearing a pink bodysuit for robbing several vending machines. (The shrill screaming sounds familiar and vaguely freshman, but Kevin isn't a snitch!)

Since he had a different finals schedule than the seniors, Jung had gone home early with friends so they don't have to worry about driving an impatient fourteen-year-old; Kevin takes his sweet time walking out the school, as does Juyeon. 

The conclusion of the first half of the school year should feel like a weight has been lifted from Kevin’s shoulders, but there’s still stress wedged between his bones, rubbing his marrow wrong. Idly, he thinks of visiting that Korean spa his aunt kept raving about during Thanksgiving. 

Juyeon is quiet beside him. It makes Kevin uneasy, not because there’s silence but because he _wants_ Juyeon to say something. Or maybe he wants to hear Juyeon’s voice, just because he can. 

That’s somewhat upsetting. 

Inside the car, Kevin finds comfort. He’d never pegged himself as a minivan type of guy, but the vehicle has grown on him in these last few months for an unknown reason. He glances to his side, watches Juyeon adjust his mirror, and knows there’s an _upsettingly_ known reason for that that he refuses to acknowledge. 

He doesn’t want to acknowledge anything, so he acts normal. He talks about school, his grades, the chemistry final. Anything that isn’t the subject he wants to touch upon.

“Lowkey forgot everything about titrations,” Kevin rattles on, sighing. “Time to kiss my _B_ goodbye. Welcome to _C_ -ville, Kevin. Population: you.”

“You probably did fine,” Juyeon assures.

“Did I? _Did_ I?”

“You studied your ass off, Moon. You and me both, but especially you, _Mayor_ of B-town.” Juyeon grins. “If you don’t keep that _B_ , I’m buying you consolation coffee. If you do, I’ll lend you my HBO account so you can watch that Bill Hader show."

Kevin’s heart feels full. Too full, like it’ll burst and bleed. “Thanks for believing in me,” he says. He leans against the window, sighing once more. He bites his lip, tries to smile over the urge to cry out. “Fake-boyfriend. Yeah. I can always count on him.”

Kevin acts normal.

Except, suddenly.

Juyeon does not. 

“Actually, Kevin. Can we stop that? This. Me and you. Can we end it?”

The words make Kevin’s heart drop. _Burst._ One look at Juyeon, hands clenched so tightly on the wheel, eyes concentrated on the road ahead, tells him that one of his worst fears has come to fruition. 

“Why?” he asks.

“Because...” Juyeon’s knuckles turn white. “I... I like you, Kevin. So being with you like this, like we are but aren't, is... not great. It hurts. I’m— We should stop, but if you... No, I mean. Right now, we aren’t real, so I’m saying we need to stop the charade. Okay?”

What? 

Juyeon. Likes. _What?_  

None of that makes sense. Juyeon, pained, liking Kevin — no, that can't be right. Because Kevin is the one who’s good at hurting himself, too afraid to offer his heart, too anxious to speak his mind. And if he’s hurting Juyeon now, who knows what he could do when the whole truth breaks free. Juyeon likes Kevin, but. 

It doesn't make sense. If Juyeon knew what Kevin has been doing for weeks— months, now, would this go differently? Would Kevin be brave enough to find out? Would Kevin keep lying or tell the truth?

But the question Juyeon poses allows Kevin to have another option: neither. 

This can be Kevin’s out. 

This is the exit off the freeway, the _Get Out of Jail Free_ card. This is his excuse to run away before things can turn to dust, his scratches turn into scars. This is how he lets Juyeon slip out of his fingers to find someone braver, better than him. This is a poor boy's justification to be cowardly, one more time. 

“Okay.”

Juyeon’s voice is hushed. “... Okay?”

“Jacob found out about Sangyeon’s letter, so there’s no reason for me to keep lying. For you: homecoming’s long over. We’re both home free.” It takes all of Kevin’s willpower to keep his voice from breaking. “So, you’re right. We don’t need to keep pretending.”

A moment of silence.

“Okay,” Juyeon says, again. His fingers loosen on the wheel, and the color slowly returns. “Okay. We’re done. That’s... cool.” 

Kevin wants to laugh, but the timing isn’t right. Won’t be. “Cool,” he echoes, but he doesn’t even realize he had. 

They reach Kevin’s house. Kevin feels like he's swallowed a ton of lead, poisonous and heavy. He wants to talk to Jacob. No, he wants to talk to Juyeon, but—

“Nice doing business with you, Moon.”

This is the end of the road.

“Likewise, Lee.” Kevin unbuckles his seatbelt, opens the car door. Before he leaves, he turns back and tries, “Juyeon, can we still—”

“If you’re gonna ask about staying friends, I’ll have to stop you there. Don’t step on my already bleeding heart.” Juyeon smiles, and it doesn’t reach his eyes. “One day, maybe, but. I can’t promise you that I can.”

Kevin nods, and says nothing more. 

Juyeon drives away.

——

When Kevin gets to his room, he opens the shoe box and doesn’t cry. He can’t. Can’t let the tears fall. Refuses to admit his wrongs.

Kevin did this to himself, so he has to deal with the consequences. 

It just.

Fucking hurts.


	10. dear

Winter break is sad, generally speaking. Jacob is back for a month, but it does little to help. Kevin is near inconsolable for days and can’t find the strength to put on a smile for his best friend. And Jacob, because he’s a good guy, because he loves him unconditionally, doesn’t pry for answers and just visits the house to help Kevin bake dessert after dessert. (There’s that silver lining to stress baking that supplies the Moon and Bae households with an abundance of goodies, which always causes conflicting emotions for the baker.)

Tonight, a week into the break, Christmas come and gone, cupcakes are on the menu.

“I mean,” Kevin begins, for the sixth time this evening. He’s had stop-and-go sentences, unable to go beyond opening statements, like he’s stuck on a tricycle before a three-foot high speed bump. 

As always, Jacob is considerate. “Still listening,” he says, his chin resting on folded arms as he watches Kevin whisk the batter. 

It’s been like this for hours. From their time together Jacob must have gotten an inkling about what’s bothering the senior; Kevin has permanent dark circles under his eyes and hasn’t mentioned Juyeon since school went on break. The stress shows in more ways than one.

After much deliberation, Kevin has decided to pour out his soul today. Everything about the break-up. The emotions. These pesky _feelings._ There’s too much to say, and Jacob may be the closest he’ll ever get to therapy, but...

Kevin doesn’t know where to begin. Again. He wants to spin the story so that he’s the protagonist, the good guy. He wants to be the one who can’t be in the wrong. 

Except, that’s the thing. He knows he’s not the good guy, knows he’s waist deep in the sandpit of wrong. He’s the main character, sure, but he’s no hero. 

Being the villain to his own story is absolutely pathetic. Creative, but pathetic.

“I’m a bad person for what I did, aren’t I?”

Jacob hums. “What do you want me to say? The truth? Something that’ll make you feel better?” Kevin winces. “I can’t do both, Kev. I’m not that nice.”

Kevin stops stirring. “I mean...” Jacob narrows his eyes. “Well, you _are_ that nice, Jake, but you’re _too_ nice to say you’re _that_ nice.” He puts his whisk down, wipes a spot clean on the counter, and rests his head onto it. “I suck.”

“You’re good at baking,” Jacob points out.

“My only redeeming quality, I see.”

Sighing, Jacob pulls his chair closer to Kevin. “A good person makes mistakes just like a bad person does. Just because you messed up doesn’t make you a bad person,” he consoles. “It doesn’t make you a good person either.” He holds Kevin's shoulder, a familiar touch. “At the end of the day, you’re just a person.”

“I’m gonna cry.” Kevin grabs himself a chair to sit and grovel on.

“You’ll make the batter salty,” Jacob teases, and Kevin smiles. “Can you tell me what’s wrong now? Do you want to? No pressure. Just checking to see if you’ve changed your mind.”

“... No, not yet. Almost there.” Kevin tucks his legs under him. _Coward_ , he thinks bitterly.  

“Okay.” Jacob exhales, stretching his arms above his head. “Can I... Can I tell you something, then?”

Kevin looks up. It’s odd for Jacob to propose the question. He’s normally the one who listens to his best friend’s woes. And, believe him, this entire winter break has been nothing but woeful. 

He nods. 

Jacob twiddles his thumbs as he bites his lip. “Me and Sangyeon... We got back together.”

Kevin’s jaw drops. "What? Really? Oh, my God, that—" He's speechless. At a loss for words. Ecstatic. "That's awesome, Jake. Seriously, that's so awesome." Yet also: confused. "How? And when?"

"It happened last week. We had brunch at that place by the post office." Jacob smiles, shy. "I invited him out."

" _You_ did?" blurts Kevin, and Jacob huffs. "Sorry, that just came out. Sorry, continue."

"It wasn't serious talk, at first. I asked him if he had Christmas plans; he told me about some relatives visiting, so he had to get the guest rooms ready and stuff. I told him how my brother was coming back, how we were going to watch the Raptors game Christmas day on the new TV. That part of the conversation wasn't much different from how we talked before... before breaking up, and it was nice. 

"And then we didn't say anything. We just sat and ate. Shared pancakes. Just like we used to." He sighs. "I missed it. Us. Me and him. I missed it so much, Kev. I missed being together, but how was that fair to Sangyeon?"

Kevin reaches over and pinches Jacob's nose. "No crying because of a story. That's Disney's job."

Jacob laughs. "I won't," he assures. He wipes his eyes before going on. "I told him everything: why I broke up with him, and why I felt like we couldn't be together." He looks at his hands. "I was scared I would hold him back."

“What do you mean? That doesn't..." Kevin shakes his head, perplexed. "You were the one who left.”

Jacob nods, agreeing. “Sangyeon was the one who stayed, and I always knew he would, because I know how much he needs stability. How much he hates change. He stayed in the same town, chose a major he had picked as a kid. 

“I thought that I had to leave him so that he could learn how to be himself — without me. He’d move on, and I would, too. I left for him, and that was _mean._

“I was selfish when I did that. I thought I was helping him. I thought putting him through that pain was necessary. And he let me do that to him, because he loves me and had his own motives.” Jacob starts to show a small smile again, gazing out the window. “After having breakfast with him again, I realized something about us.

“We can still be together, still love one another, when we’re apart. We can be Jacob and Sangyeon. Or just Jacob. Just Sangyeon. We can not only change but grow _with_ each other.”

“Whoa,” Kevin says, and Jacob laughs.

“I don’t know why I thought I’d move on,” he goes on, shaking his head. “I love him way too much to do that.”

There’s a sureness in Jacob’s voice. Kevin forgets that he can be like this, too: courageous. Jacob isn’t a scared little boy in need of shielding; Kevin never needed to protect him. It’s not that things just work out; Jacob had worked to make things right. All Kevin has done is try to sweep his mess underneath the rug, where no one could see or possibly attempt to clean it.

“Do you regret breaking up with him?” asks Kevin. 

“I do,” Jacob says, “but I’m not regretful, if that makes sense. I feel... at peace.”

“Like you’re dead.”

Jacob lightly shoves him. “Cut it out. No morbid thoughts.”

The atmosphere isn’t heavy. The air isn’t quite clear, but Kevin can breathe. He swallows down his fear and finally whispers, “I broke up with Juyeon.”

It’s almost as if Jacob expected the declaration, given how little his expression changes. He doesn’t scold Kevin, though, doesn’t call him an idiot. He says, words careful, "But you weren't really dating."

A pain stabs at Kevin’s chest. "That's— That's my problem." He gnaws at his lip, hard. "I think— No, I _knew_ I wanted to date him. For real. And— And now I can’t." 

"What did Juyeon say about that? Did he not want to? Is that why you broke up?"

"The opposite." Kevin squeezes his hands together, tight, trying to redirect the pain. "He— He wanted to stop being fake. He wanted me to like him. He wanted to stop because we weren’t _real_."

"Uh, you like him," Jacob says, with confusion evident in his demeanor, "but...?"

Kevin’s voice gets more strained as he speaks. "But I don't want to get _hurt_ , Jake. If I make it real, if I let him in, what’s stopping him from breaking my heart? I don't want Juyeon to hurt me like everyone else has."

“You used your fake relationship as a safety net,” Jacob proclaims, like an epiphany, and Kevin swallows. “Isn't it a little unfair that you assigned such high standards to people who didn't even get to hear your side of the story? The girls in your letters aren't aware of your feelings at all."

The letters. Those dumb, stupid, reckless letters. "So? I don’t want them to know at all. Good riddance."

“That’s a part of your problem, Kev. People don't realize how deeply their actions affect others, and that's _you_ included," Jacob explains. "You've been carrying around the burden of every heartbreak, every missed chance. Those letters that you write, the ones that you tell yourself help you heal? You haven't gotten rid of your feelings but made sure you never forgot them.”

“Oh.”

“Things don’t just happen. You have to _make_ the change. You have to _do_ something about it.”

Kevin loves Jacob, a lot. 

They finish baking. The aroma of warm sugar fills the air, calm and sweet. Jacob takes an extra portion of cupcakes to give to Sangyeon, and Kevin makes no move to stop him. 

——

The return to school is, in essence, stifling. People are cautious of Kevin as he parks his Corolla terribly, drinks his tall iced Americano, enters the building alone. He walks to his locker with his eyes on the ground and his hand secure on the strap of his backpack. 

It’s not like he’d announced his breakup with Juyeon to the entire school, but gossip is gossip and the remnants of the fall-out are scattered everywhere. Arriving to school in a vehicle that’s not a minivan. Roaming the halls independently. Starkly avoiding the gymnasium and its inhabitants. Wanting to die in AP Physics because Juyeon, who was his only hope of passing the class, got his schedule switched for the second semester. 

Maybe that last one is a silver lining, because had they been in the same class Kevin may’ve just suffocated from the awkward tension clogging the room.

Chanhee, surprisingly, doesn’t say a peep about the depressing situation. He doesn't press, doesn't tease about the break-up. The days for him are just normal high school days, complaining about homophobic classmates and underwhelming hot lunches. He lets Kevin deal with the Juyeon Problem on his own. It’s daunting for Kevin — this autonomy — but it's necessary.  

Because Kevin does something about it. 

Although he has to ask the flutes around the band room, he finds Lauren's locker relatively quickly. She's in the middle of grabbing her pre-calculus textbook, crouched down, when her eyes meet his. 

“Kevin.” It's only his name, but the sound of it makes his heart stutter.

“Hey, Lauren. I have something to tell you. Got a second?”

Lauren closes her locker. Tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, a second,” she says, slow.

Kevin notices her hair is cut shorter, too short to tie with hairbands. He speaks his mind.

“When I was a sophomore, you broke my heart. I really liked you, and I thought you liked me, too. Turned out that you had a boyfriend, which was basically a stab in the gut. I didn’t know, and that sucked. I had to get over it by writing down all my thoughts about you in a letter.” 

Kevin takes out the paper from his bag and gives it to Lauren. “This letter.”

She reads it. Kevin hears her whispered responses and quiet gasps. He doesn't stare at her — tries his best not to, at least. When she’s finished, she puts the letter down. 

“I— I don’t understand,” she finally says. “This... I mean, I know you used to like me, but what are you trying to do now? You hate me.”

Kevin shakes his head. “No, not entirely. I should, but I don’t.” He meets her gaze. "I'm being selfish. I wanted to tell you, in person, how much you hurt me, rather than in this cowardly letter I never gave you. I wanted to say that what you did, how you treated me, stringing me along for weeks like you felt the same... You broke my heart. We were young, but you were cold.”

Lauren flinches, but she doesn't turn red-faced, doesn't make a move to defend her past actions. “Okay, I get it. Yeah, I was a total bitch. How can I repay—”

“It was messed up, but that’s not what I’m here for. I don’t want a pity prize. I don’t want an apology. I don’t need one. I don’t need anything.” Kevin takes the letter back and folds it neatly. “This is closure for me — maybe for you. Not all stories get to have it, but I wanted mine with you to end cleanly.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Lauren frowns. “Why? And why now, of all times?”

“I don’t wanna regret anything anymore. I don’t wanna hide my feelings. I’m owning up to what was in the past so I can have a better future.” 

Lauren whistles. “Deep.”

Kevin chuckles. “Whatever your life is like right now, I wish you the best. Everyone deserves love. Even the heartbreakers.” He turns to leave. “Thanks for listening to me.”

“It might not be worth anything, but sorry for making your sophomore year of marching band shitty.”

The apology is unwarranted. It actually catches Kevin so off-guard that he stops in his tracks, but not enough to turn and face her. “You could’ve been a good friend, Lauren.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Kevin keeps walking.

——

_Say hi to your new Facebook friend, Daisy._

_8:42 AM_

**Kevin Moon** **  
** hey Daisy I don’t know if you remember me much  
well you must since u accepted my friend request  
anyway I need to tell you something  
this is Kevin

_11:39 AM_

**Daisy Fitzgerald** **  
** I remember you! You helped me learn piano when I was in high school, even though I was super bad LOL

 **Kevin Moon** **  
** you were... decent?  
kind of

 **Daisy Fitzgerald** **  
** Ha ha, very funny =) **  
** What is it that you want to tell me? I’m all ears!

 **Kevin Moon** **  
** it’s a doozy  
I want you to read it actually  
please  
[image attached]

_11:53 AM_

**Daisy Fitzgerald** **  
** Kevin I  
I’m so sorry  
I didn’t know I hurt you this much

 **Kevin Moon** **  
** I know  
this is just

 **Daisy Fitzgerald** **  
** ...?  
Kevin?

_12:10 PM_

**Kevin Moon** **  
** a childish way for me to vent. I thought I was helping myself with this letter (technically: these letters, plural. currently disregarded) but that’s not true. I’ve been carrying this pain, this heartbreak, because I thought if I remembered how much I hurt before I wouldn’t make the same mistake & hurt again

 **Daisy Fitzgerald** **  
** Oh

 **Kevin Moon** **  
** THAT WAS PROBABLY MORE THAN YOU WANTED TO KNOW AH

 **Daisy Fitzgerald**  
Don’t worry about it!!  
Can I ask why? Like why are you telling me in particular?

 **Kevin Moon** **  
** I’m making... amends?  
There was a  
guy  
And I did something I regret  
so  
because I have the choice to do this  
to do anything  
I don’t wanna regret my past  
Or cling to things that never were

 **Daisy Fitzgerald** **  
** Hm I see....

 **Kevin Moon** **  
** yeah

 **Daisy Fitzgerald** **  
** Can I tell you something too?

 **Kevin Moon** **  
** Of course

 **Daisy Fitzgerald** **  
** I’m gay

 **Kevin Moon** **  
** OH  
That’s cool  
I mean  
my friend yells Lesbian Rights all the time  
So

 **Daisy Fitzgerald** **  
** Kevin I’m trying to make a point LOL

 **Kevin Moon** **  
** yea I’m sorry  
I’ve been told I’m a  
Disaster Bisexual 

 **Daisy Fitzgerald** **  
** You’re charming, but I couldn’t tell you why I had to turn you down then. I was still figuring it out. And I wasn’t lying to you completely. When you confessed to me I had to say no because 1) you were too young but also 2) I like girls

 **Kevin Moon**  
same  
but also guys  
Bisexual

 **Daisy Fitzgerald** **  
** What happened with that guy? The one you’re doing this for?

 **Kevin Moon**  
long story  
I’m still in the process of writing it

 **Daisy Fitzgerald** **  
** Want to catch up when I’m back in town? I have a flight booked in April =D

 **Kevin Moon**  
Sure  
I think that’d be awesome :)

——

Five more days go by before Kevin’s backup best friend cracks. 

Chanhee invites himself over on Sunday evening, with the only notice being an ominous text — _get ready bitch_ — ten minutes prior. Kevin is wrapped in his comforter, listening to a Disney Instrumental playlist and staring at the wall. There's no use in protesting whatever is to come, so he stays on his bed, swaddled and safe. For now, at least.

When the door to his bedroom slams open, Kevin clutches his blankets tighter and prepares for the worst. 

“Stop being sad,” Chanhee orders as he throws a Tsum Tsum at Kevin’s lifeless body. “It’s _pathetic._ ”

“Can’t stop me from feeling my feelings. Disney taught me that. _Inside-Out._ Look it up.” 

Chanhee drops onto the bed and shakes Kevin. "What the hell are you doing to yourself, child?"

Kevin squirms out of his grasp and falls back onto the bed. 

"I'm not being rhetorical! What the _hell_ are you doing to yourself?" 

Kevin lifts his head. “I’m detoxing. I was getting over my letters, formally. Processing them.” He closes his eyes. “I’m just. Very mixed feelings.”

“Explain more. I don’t get it.”

“Jacob was telling me how the letters I wrote were doing the opposite of what I meant them to. That I never truly got over any of the recipients, even though I thought I did. It was one-sided thinking, so I changed that. I talked with the rest of them, told them how they made me feel, got my closure.” Kevin opens his eyes, sighing. “But I’m still sad. I don’t get it either.”

"I came to be mean and knock some sense into you, but you're acting so wimpy that I'm having second thoughts."

"I never should've written them," Kevin goes on, more like a soliloquy than part of a conversation. "Five letters. Five heartachingly painful pages that healed my heart. But no, that wasn't it. It was all in the moment. I was thinking short-term, not long-term."

"Weren't you, like, eight when you started writing them?"

"This was all just an unhealthy coping mechanism: to cope with the fact that I was more afraid of the _chance_ of being hurt than truly getting hurt. Writing the letters didn't hurt me physically, but the mental burden was there. I just never acknowledged it. Refused to. Forced myself to think I was doing fine. Locked away those thoughts in a box. Literally and figuratively."

"Well, like you said, it was a short-term fix that kind of—"

"No one knew but me. It was my own little secret that kept me sane and content. It let me think that I could just— just word vomit onto a page and be done with that chapter of my life. As if each heartbreak could be condensed in a single letter that only _I_ knew about, and nobody else. If no one else knew, then no one else would see how many times I've run away."

"Look, you're afraid of getting hurt more than you already had. That sucks, but—"

"It wasn't all heartbreak. There were missed chances. I could've— I could've told Juyeon after I kissed him. I could've talked to Sangyeon without getting Jacob involved. I could've confronted Changmin. He was so nice to me, but I never went back. Like, I don't know how well we'd get along, but if I'd actually _tried_ and—"

Fed up and irate, Chanhee loses it. “God, shut _up._ Just. Be quiet!” Kevin stops, struck silent. “You and your _stupid_ love letters. Ugh!”

Chanhee jumps from his seat and storms towards the closet. He grabs the shoe box from the top shelf and snaps in a flurry, “These messed up everything! These ridiculous letters got you all brokenhearted like a gigantic _loser._ You should’ve just burnt them right when you—”

The abrupt pause and the sound of the shoe cover hitting the ground cause Kevin’s head to whip up.

“This is way more than five, Kevin Hyungseo Moon.”

“Hold up, that’s—” Kevin scrambles across the bed, snatching back the shoe box, “—an invasion of privacy.”

Except Chanhee already has a paper in hand, reading the words aloud and holding it just out of Kevin’s reach.

“ _Dear Juyeon, you really suck for dropping my brownie tray on the gross gym floor. I know it was an accident and I know you were late to calc cleaning it up and I know you helped me make more for the homecoming committee, but you still really suck._ ”

Kevin snatches that, too. “Private,” he repeats, ears burning.

“That— That wasn’t Kevin of Christmas Past. That fiasco happened in September.” Then, Chanhee’s eyes widen, and his voice turns eerily grave as he points accusingly at the shoe box. “You wrote him more letters _while_ you were dating, didn’t you?”

“No,” Kevin replies hastily, but Chanhee has already stolen another page out of the shoe box, scurrying around the room. “No, wait—”

“ _Dear Juyeon, you’re super ticklish and I really wasn’t expecting that. I swear you were about to break my nose with your elbow. Did not appreciate the bruises, but your laugh was infectious and it was all I thought about during stats. May've bombed that quiz because of you, jerk._ ”

Chanhee blows the bangs from his eyes and waves the paper in front of Kevin’s ashamed face. “Evidence, you ignorant slut.” 

Kevin, despite himself, murmurs, “ _The Office_ is overrated.”

Chanhee ignores him. “What the hell are you doing? Why did you do this? I thought you only did one-time letters to purge feelings?”

“I do. I did. I _tried._ ” Kevin doesn’t have the right to feel guilty. He sighs, scrubbing at his face.

“When I was with Juyeon, I couldn’t help it. Every time I felt something, I just picked up my pen and wrote. Every instance. I needed to get it out of my system.” His voice lowers. “I don’t want these feelings.”

“You _do_ not, not _did_ not?” Chanhee prompts, eyebrow quirked. “Present tense is telling me you’ve still got a big fat crush on your boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend.” Kevin frowns. “Scratch that. Fake-ex-boyfriend. Ex-fake-boyfriend? Boyfriend-ex-fake.”

“You’re such a dumbass.”

“Words are hard.”

“Not about that. About _Juyeon._ ” Chanhee leans against the wall, pinching the space between his eyes. “You probably thought that breaking up was a good idea because Juyeon was never going to like you.”

“About that...” Kevin pokes at a loose thread on his comforter. He looks to the ceiling. “Juyeon told me he liked me before I ended things.”

“DUMBASS.” With some never-before-seen power, Chanhee wretches the window open and yells, hands cupped around his mouth, “OH, GOD, HE’S SUCH A DUMBASS. KEVIN MOON, _THE_ DUMBASS. GRADE A!”

“Stop! Stop, Chanhee! Someone might hear you!”

“THAT’S THE POINT, DUMBASS!”

Two whole minutes later of Chanhee cursing out to the entire neighborhood, he slams the window shut and then groans loudly into his hands. He does this for another minute. Kevin counts the seconds to himself, because he likes when he's not being called a dumbass. 

"You're a dumbass," Chanhee says, ruining the moment. 

"Yeah, I know."

" _Why_ would you even do that?" Chanhee's voice takes on a quality akin to despairing pity, if there is such a thing.

“It was for the best," Kevin murmurs. "Juyeon doesn’t need to settle for someone like me. He could— can do better.”

Chanhee shows the purest look of disgust. “What the _fuck_ is _wrong_ with you?” After every word he whacks Kevin with a pillow. “You! Both! Like! Each! Other! Stop making it complicated with your terribly flawed logic!” 

"Stop hitting me first!" 

Huffing, Chanhee drops the pillow to the floor. His voice loses its shrill tone and turns serious. “You’re _Kevin Hyungseo Moon._ You deserve happiness. You deserve love. You deserve a prince.”

“Or princess,” Kevin quips. 

“This isn’t time to talk about bi-erasure. You’re literally in love with Juyeon, so shut the _fuck_ up.”

Kevin shuts the fuck up. 

"You need to talk with the guy. Tell him your truth."

“But I rejected him. I hurt him.” Kevin rakes a hand through his hair. “How will I be able to be honest about my feelings?”

“You didn’t have a problem writing it down.” Chanhee heaves an irritated sigh. “I’m literally trying to figure out how and why I’m simultaneously in love with two people, but go off, I guess.”

"Wait, do you mean—"

"Look, Romeo, we get to fucking talk about _my_ shit after you get _your_ shit figured out. No other way around it." Chanhee glances at his friend, letting out a more personal sigh. "The things we do for love."

"Yeah," Kevin agrees. He reaches for the shoebox. "The things we do."

——

It's by the sheer grace of God that Kevin doesn't crash his Corolla into a streetlight on the way to Juyeon's house. He's said a prayer every morning and night since his talk with Chanhee, trying to give himself more courage. More hope. More faith. That's not how God works; He doesn't give out favors to those who beg for mercy. But Kevin's just looking for someone to believe in, and someone to believe in him. 

The day is the fifteenth of January. The time is nine A.M. It's Saturday. The weather is good. Kevin still feels like he's going to throw up, but he's powering through the nausea, hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, going one mile above the speed limit.

Once he arrives, Kevin doesn't know if he should park in the driveway — _what if he blocks Ms. Lee's car?_ — or on the street — _what if there's a spontaneous snowstorm and he gets towed?_ The decision he makes is to circle around the block until he settles for a spot in front of the fire hydrant half a block away. It's probably illegal, but Kevin allows himself one risk of a traffic violation to maintain a bit of normalcy. He shuts off the engine, grabs the shoe box from the back seat, and gets out of the car. 

Walks up the driveway. Stands on the front porch. Turns around. Turns back around. Does that three more times. Takes a deep breath. Rings the doorbell. 

Waits. 

The door opens, and Kevin's heart stops. Juyeon is—

Juyeon is here. Juyeon is right in front of him. Baggy sweatpants, a Tigers crewneck. Bedhead. A blank expression.

“Moon,” Juyeon says, and Kevin aches. "What... What are you doing here?"

Kevin has rehearsed this. He’d made a bulleted list in Google Docs, for God’s sake. He knows what to say. 

“Happy birthday,” he begins. “I hope you bought a lotto ticket and registered to vote.”

Juyeon doesn’t attempt to hide his growing smile. “Thank you. I did both.” He gives Kevin a onceover and pulls the door open further. “Come inside. It’s cold out, and you could get sick.”

It’s a little unnerving, entering Juyeon’s house after they’ve broken up. Well. The entire situation is too complicated to sum it up with the phrase “broken up,” so. Kevin takes a seat, placing the box by his side, and Juyeon sits across from him on the other couch. There’s no point in sitting in silence; Kevin hadn’t braved the fifteen minute drive to chicken out. 

Albeit, it takes a few seconds for him to get started again.

“I wanted to show you something, if you’d let me. It’s... It’s a lot. Basically my whole attempted redemption arc, which I probably am not worthy of but I’m trying to have anyway.”

Juyeon, now, takes a second. He hangs his head, scrubs a hand through his messy hair. And then, finally, with a tired wave of his hand: “Go ahead.”

Okay. Good enough. 

“Let me set the scene: Twelve-year-old Kevin Moon, after Patricia West’s birthday party, writes a letter to Juyeon Lee with no intention of sending it, because he would much rather _die_ than confess. He then uses this method of letter-writing for later crushes as an excuse for his cowardice. He goes on to pretend that he hadn’t fallen in love to save himself from the heartbreak. Kevin tells himself he forgets. 

“Years go by, the two boys grow up, and somehow they fatefully meet at a crossroads in late August. A mistake was made, and Kevin is forced to come to terms that he is, quoting Chanhee Choi, a Grade A dumbass. Juyeon makes a proposal that’s outrageous, that _could_ prevent Kevin from hurting someone he loves very dearly. No homo. A little bit homo. Jacob is a friend, but he is also bisexual.”

“You’re digressing, Moon.”

“Yes, fair point.” Kevin shares a smile with Juyeon, and then returns to his narrator voice. “Honestly, in retrospect, it made no sense for Kevin to agree or for Juyeon to even make the deal, but he— they... They end up dating. Well, some complicated, convoluted, roundabout version of it.

“Juyeon becomes a personal chauffeur. Kevin becomes a part-time patissier and part-time cheerleader for the basketball team. Juyeon is a perfect gentleman, except he’s not. Juyeon is a _real_ person, with real feelings, real hopes, dreams, desires. Juyeon loves the painter Ed Paschke but also Russell Westbrook, basketball and fashion icon. Juyeon exclusively buys things on sale or two-for-one. Juyeon _unironically_ enjoys the Hello Kitty franchise. 

“And Kevin, who learns to appreciate all those things, is a romantic. Kevin likes holding hands, going on dates, kissing, watching hours of Netflix together. But Kevin writes letters to get rid of his feelings, because he is terrified. Kevin stress-bakes and re-watches Disney movies and can’t fucking drive but he really, really, really likes Juyeon, and that— that is terrifying.”

And there it is.

“You do?” Juyeon is sitting on the edge of the couch, having scooted forward as Kevin progressed. (If this was a less serious discussion, Kevin would tell him that he has a very high chance of falling on his ass.)

“ _Kevin_ does.” Juyeon opens his mouth, but Kevin stops him. “I’m not done with this third-person thing, so hold on. I practiced it this way.” 

“Sorry,” says Juyeon, although he doesn’t sound it, cheeks pink, and God, Kevin wants to kiss him. He doesn’t deserve that. Not yet. 

“At the core of his being, Kevin doesn’t think he wants to be in love. Kevin has only known heartbreak, so he doesn’t want any more chances of pain. Kevin only knows one way to stop it.” The box is in his lap, now. “Because... Because of Juyeon, Kevin finds himself writing again. And again. And again.” 

Kevin takes off the lid of the shoebox. Inside, there are dozens of letters. Some are folded neatly in thirds; others are crumpled and crushed without a care. White-lined paper, graph paper, a Post-It note, a receipt from Starbucks. There’s even the liner of a cupcake wrapper. All shapes, colors, and sizes, but they all share the same premise and first line. 

“Wow.” Juyeon reaches out. “Can I...?”

The box is silently passed into his hands. Juyeon goes through all of them. Kevin watches his expression morph as he reads, recalling the moments that Kevin wrote about, understanding the moments where Kevin fell a little more in love. Juyeon traces the letters on the pages, snorts when he sees the other side of the receipts. He laughs out loud, bright, at the cupcake liner.

“I— I talked to everyone I wrote letters for. Got my closure on those chapters of my life. I didn’t want to hide behind fancy words on paper anymore.

“When we were together, I... I kept writing to you. Every time I felt something. Every time I didn’t want to. Every time I was scared to accept that someone could like me for me, and that that someone could be... you.” 

Juyeon doesn’t say anything at first. He puts the box down, moves to sit next to Kevin, and knocks their shoulders together. “Hey,” he whispers. “You’re incredible.”

“I’ve been hearing a lot of insults lately, with a sprinkle of self-degradation, so thanks for that.” Kevin swallows. “I’m sorry for keeping this from you. I hope you’ll still give me— us a chance. Or at least forgive me, for all that stuff I said after finals.”

“I do. I do forgive you, okay, because I get it. Mostly. About how you were scared. Worried. Anxious.” Juyeon grins, crooked. "We had some things in common."

After a few subdued moments, he folds his hand over Kevin's and says, “You were my first kiss, too, y’know.”

Kevin blinks. “I did not know.”

"Yeah, well. I wasn't hot stuff back then like I am now." Juyeon grimaces. "I didn't mean for that to sound so shallow."

"Keep going. You're doing great. A dollar for the douchebag jar." 

Juyeon rolls his eyes. "I didn't have a crush on you, but I paid attention. You read a lot of books. Carried a sketchbook. I thought you were cute, except I didn't really... get that, because you were a guy. And I'm a guy. And guys like girls. At least, that's what I thought, before. Well. You know what I mean?"

"I go to church, Lee. I know what you mean." Kevin grins. "Was I your bisexual awakening?"

A pensive expression crosses Juyeon's face. "Looking back, that title might have to go to Lebron. Yeah, I totally had a thing for Lebron. Wow. That explains so much." 

"Not gonna lie, I almost expected that." Kevin glances at their interlaced hands. "Unfortunately for pre-teen Juyeon, I'm not the sporty type, so. Here we are."

"Here we are," echoes Juyeon. He sighs. "I like you. When I asked you to pretend-date me, I sorta... I had this hope that you’d actually wanna be my actual boyfriend, at some point. Make something last, something _real._ Even though that wasn't the plan, I held on and wished that you'd change your mind, or I'd get the guts to tell you how I really felt.” 

Kevin places his hand on Juyeon's cheek, trembling ever so slightly. “Is that— something _real_ — Do you still want that? With me?” 

“Take a wild guess, Moon.”

Somehow, Kevin reaches him first. Juyeon lets their lips meet, careful yet not cautious. Kevin presses close, breathes deep, notices the gentleness that'd always been there but he'd never noticed. Juyeon curls his hand around Kevin's neck, brings them against one another, a kiss in between heartbeats. Shivers run up his spine; the air is charged, static. Kevin climbs over Juyeon's legs, gets comfortable peppering kisses from above. Juyeon places his hands on Kevin's sides, hums a low noise out of nowhere that makes Kevin pull back, startled. It's—

It's a lot. Juyeon's pupils are blown, his lips kissed red. His neck and cheeks are flushed, and Kevin is sure he's in no better shape. Juyeon looks absolutely starstruck; Kevin has to tuck his chin on Juyeon's shoulder to stop himself from capturing that mouth again.

"We're boyfriends now?" he says, almost squeaks.

Juyeon snorts. "What? Is that seriously why you had to stop? Come on, Moon."

"I stopped to breathe, jerk. Some of us need oxygen."

"Yes, I'm your boyfriend," Juyeon declares. He tugs Kevin back so they're facing one another. "Got it?"

Kevin nods. "I'm your boyfriend — your _real_ boyfriend. Yeah." He smiles. "I guess that means I gotta tear up our fake-dating contract. Make it void."

"Or you could frame it. That'd be a fun conversation starter." Juyeon laughs even as Kevin punches his bicep and slides off his lap. 

Kevin puts his hands on his face, mildly embarrassed at how hot it is. "Honestly, who would _ever_ think to start a fake relationship in the first place? Forget engineering and the NBA; you could be, like, a YA romcom writer."

"I'd much rather leave the writing to you." Juyeon turns to Kevin, grinning dopily. “This is a good birthday present.” 

Still blushing, Kevin sputters, "This wasn't— I don't count—" He jumps to his feet, adjusting his clothes. "Do you wanna go on a date? I'll pay for your movie ticket and popcorn. _That_ can be your birthday present."

Juyeon takes Kevin's hand to stand. "Hell yeah. And we can share a blue Icee, too. Best flavor."

"God, I like you so much."

——

On the day of graduation, Kevin wears a purple button-down and puts a touch too much gel in his hair. His mom fixes it with water, a comb, and relentless tugging. If his sister were here, she’d have a constructive solution, but unfortunately her flight got delayed, cancelled, delayed again — “Why did you pick _Delta_? We watched that John Mulaney special together,” Kevin had said, and she groaned in reply — so she won’t be back home until tomorrow morning. Their mom has discovered the wonders of FaceTime, though, which means she’ll get to see her baby brother walk down the auditorium aisle, albeit with crappy quality. 

(Tomorrow, Kevin will talk to her in person, finally, and she’ll probably put him in a headlock because of all that he’s said over the phone and text. What he said about himself, about his boyfriend. Juyeon likes her a lot, from stories he's heard, but Kevin doesn’t know how to break it to him that his sister is actually evil and will prank him the moment they meet. But, luckily, that’s _tomorrow’s_ problem.)

Jacob comes to Kevin’s front door, Sangyeon beside him. They look like Kevin’s parents, and in a way they act like they are, too. Jacob hugs him tightly, strokes his back, whispers _sweetie, we’re so proud of you_. Sangyeon unironically calls him _champ_ and makes three dad-jokes in the short span of five minutes. Restless, Kevin’s mom hurries them to Sangyeon’s car, where Kevin is allowed to sit in the front seat because today is His Day. Jacob sits directly behind Sangyeon, calmly adjusts his boyfriend’s shirt collar over the seat. Sangyeon doesn’t say thank you, but he puts on Jacob’s favorite song and that’s enough. 

(Kevin had missed Them, proper noun, in all meanings of the word. He had missed Jacob's calming presence in his life. He had missed Sangyeon's encouraging words of wisdom. He had missed them together, filling in the other's spaces, leaving no room for doubt. Kevin had thought he couldn't imagine a world where there wasn't Jacob and Sangyeon, but he's lived through it. He's witnessed the pain; he's witnessed the healing. There always will be a world where there is Jacob, and there is Sangyeon, and there are the two of them, in love, irrevocably.) 

At the ceremony, Kevin sits on a football field filled with his peers and their loved ones. He watches the staff members walk to the stage. He hears the principal make the first announcement to the graduating class. The valedictorian make a riveting speech, addressing the students of now and what they will be in the future. She's no taller than five foot, but her words are big and broad and impactful. Towards the end of her speech her voice is subdued, level, like she's talking to a friend across the lunch table. 

"We are a group of stressed, scared kids wanting to meet the expectations set by our parents, society, and even each other. Friends. Enemies. Everyone in between. We want things to go right, for our first chances to be our last. But I want to leave you with this: there are always chances after the first. We make mistakes, and things don't always go right on the first try. So, you move on to the second, third, fourth chances, until you think that _this_ is the last chance. _This_ is the one. When you get that far, you fight for it. You fight for your last chance, and you see what else the future has in store."

(Kevin will remember this part, years later, even after he's forgotten everything else on this day.)

Roll-call takes time. From his seat, Kevin watches classmates step onto the stage, shake hands with the principal, and get handed their diploma. Alphabetically, one-by-one, careful and precise. Applause is to be held until the end, but the moment Juyeon's searching eyes find him through the crowd Kevin can't help but yell a cheer. There's laughter and teasing, and Kevin doesn't mind. No one follows that rule anyway. 

(The last few months haven’t been a dream. They’ve been real in the form of arguments, conversations, apologies. They work together and get better. They properly meet each other's friends; Jaehyun and Chanhee get along like fire and ice, though Jaehyun claims Jacob as a son despite the age difference. Juyeon and Kevin tell each other the truth, from the little things to big. They’d talked about their least favorite fruit, career plans, childhood memories, opinions on the Marvel cinematic universe. Kevin knows that Juyeon gets him, and that’s a nice feeling to have.)

They graduate. Kevin doesn’t throw his cap in the air, mostly because he sees Kelly Monawitz three seats down get hit in the face with one and he doesn't want to share the same fate. He doesn’t feel different, but why would he? It's like how a birthday is just another day of the year. He sees his family in the bleachers, gives a big smile when Sangyeon points the camera at him. Jacob shouts, “We love you!” and Kevin thinks he tears up a little. Even birthdays are emotional.

(In three months' time, just like his best friend, Kevin will be in another state and pursuing science — or maybe journalism, art, music. And/or is also an option. Juyeon will be far from home as well, finding his own passions, breaking stereotypes and setting precedents. They'll find out where the road leads them, when the time comes.)

Chanhee and Younghoon find one another across the aisles, Choi and Kim rows away from one another but that doesn’t stop them. They look like they're out of their minds but happier beyond belief, crashing into one another’s arms, shouting and laughing and holding on. Changmin isn't even graduating and the principal is still in the middle of his ending speech, but that doesn't stop him from jumping off the bleachers and diving into the fray, either. They all hold on. 

(With the three of them, Kevin thinks that it’ll stay that way.)

When all is said and done, officially, Kevin goes to the bleachers. Jacob and Sangyeon, hand-in-hand, gazing at him fondly. His sister sending kisses through the screen. His mom carrying a fresh bouquet of flowers. Kevin hugs her tightly, his cap falling to the ground. Jacob joins, as does Sangyeon. There’s a tap on his shoulder, and he turns around. He smiles. 

Juyeon high-fives him, chuckling, and plants a kiss on his cheek.

(So, yeah, Kevin might be in love. That's youth, isn’t it?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's all, folks!!! merry xmas & happy holidays to whoever is celebrating!!!! i will reply to any & all final comments as time permits :^)
> 
> unfortunately this may be my last long fic, if not all fic, for tbz. i still love them to pieces, but it's a different feeling from when i first started liking them; i don't think i'll ever go back to being the dedicated(?) TheB i once was. even so, it was truly a dream to write such a specific au & be so excited for it, especially since i wasn't sure what audience this would hit. from the very bottom of my heart, to whomever decided this fic is worth their time, thanks for reading!!!!!!
> 
> (P.S. confessional: i actually haven't watched the sequel's trailer yet.... and i got the title wrong; it's "to all the boys: p.s. i still love you" lmao pls check it out i love jordan fisher)


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